


Dragon Age: On Small Shoulders

by McDonald195



Series: Dragon Age: On Small Shoulders [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age AU, Gen, Teen Inquisitor, Young Inquisitor (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9561998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McDonald195/pseuds/McDonald195
Summary: 'Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.'What if the one who obtained the Anchor was a child, rather than well trained adult? How would that affect them and the rest of Thedas as a whole?Cillian, a young Dalish elf with no real home, is caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and is thrust into a position he could never be prepared for. Will he emerge unscathed, or will he be torn apart in the maelstrom of war and deceit?





	1. Chapter I - Friends and Opportunities

Cillian sat on a wall, his legs swaying as he looked out over the expanse of frozen mountainside which made up Haven. He looked down at the Mark, softly glowing from where the unknown magic had carved itself into his hand. It had hurt when he’d woken up, but now that he’d had some time to get used to it, the pain had subsided. He pulled out the bandages he’d found earlier on, wrapping them around his hand to hide most of the glowing. He hoped to avoid garnering any more attention than he already was.

He had only been there for a week or so, but he was happy with these people; Cassandra was scary but seemed nice, Varric was even shorter than he was and Cillian liked him. The dwarf told him stories about brave heroes, and answered all of Cillian’s questions. Solas was a little odd, he slept quite a lot and would often sit with Cillian and talk about elves and his family, which Cillian didn’t like to talk about, but he always learned things after talking with Solas. He’d come to realise that he, much like his old family, didn’t really wear shoes. Shoes were quite comfortable; he quite liked shoes, so he always wondered why they never wore them. The three of them were going out to a place called the Hinterlands, which were a few days away by horseback.  They were going to stop the human Mages and Templars from fighting each other. Cillian didn’t understand why they were all fighting, the warriors in his clan never fought with the keeper. Must be a human thing, he thought as he hopped down from the wall and began to stroll around camp.

He recognized the strange looks he received from the other people around Haven; they thought he was some kind of freak. He sometimes found it sad around the camp, there wasn’t anyone around his age, and all the adults were too busy to talk to him. He was annoyed that the adults ignored him for the most part, he wasn’t that young. He wandered past the tavern, The Singing Maiden. Cassandra had told him not to go in there, as it wasn’t a place for a child. He began to walk past the steps leading up to the apothecary, before noticing Solas at the top. He sauntered up the stairs to find the bald elf packing a bag ready for the trip to the Hinterlands.

“Hello there Da’len,” He said, not even needing to look up to see Cillian walking up. “How can I help you today?”

“Why aren’t I allowed to go to Redcliffe?” He inquired. “I’m getting sick of being here all the time.”

“We’ll be going into dangerous territory, young one. It’s likely to end in conflict, no place for someone of your age.”

Cillian scowled. “I’m not a baby, Solas, I can look after myself.”

“I don’t doubt it, but fact remains that you are far too important to risk.”

“It should be my choice. I want to help,” Cillian said, turning away from the elf in frustration. He knew it wasn’t Solas’ fault, but he needed someone to blame. He saw Solas’ empathetic look out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn to face him. “You guys need me anyway; what if there are Rifts out there?”

“I understand your frustration, Da’len. I was somewhat of a hot-blooded young man myself,” He paused, almost a contemplative silence, before he continued. “You do have magical power; it is powerful indeed, but raw and untrained. This doesn’t even begin to take into account the abilities you may have gained from your mark,” He stood and put his hand on Cillian’s shoulder. “It’s not up to me, but… I’ll support you if you ask Cassandra.”

Cillian looked up with a smile, “Thank you, Solas!” He exclaimed, before turning towards the Chantry. He paused, looking back to the Elven mage. “You said I was untrained, would you… maybe teach me more about magic some time?”

Solas grinned. “Of course, Da’len,” He replied, watching as Cillian ran off to find Cassandra.

 

“I don’t know about this.” Cillian came up to just above Cassandra’s shoulders which, along with her black armor made her quite imposing. He was always apprehensive around her, even though he knew she wasn’t all that bad.

“Please? I can take care of myself, Cassandra.” Cillian argued.

“We don’t properly know the situation in the Hinterlands, it could very well be more than you could handle.” Cullen said, his hands resting on the hilt of his sword.

“I don’t see why not.” Leliana remarked from the other end of the large war table. Cassandra glared at her, but she continued. “We have scouts currently examining the situation who will be able to help. Besides, he’ll be with Cassandra and the others, so he’ll be protected.”

“Those rogue Templars might be dangerous.” Cullen replied. “They’ll be highly trained and likely adept at dealing with mages.”

“Cassandra was trained in a similar manner, I’m sure she will be capable enough.”

“One warrior, no matter how skilled, cannot possible defend one person from that many people effectively. Not to mention all the mages that they’ll come across in that area.” He said with a scowl, glaring at the young elf. Cillian hadn’t seen much of Cullen since he’d been in Haven, and part of him attributed that to either being an elf or a mage, he couldn’t tell.

“They will also have Varric, who withstood many threats when travelling with the Champion of Kirkwall, and Solas, who has managed to evade the Templars well enough so far.”

“Enough.” Cassandra’s powerful voice brought the discussion to an immediate end. She looked at Cillian sternly. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He nodded, his expression pleading. “Well then, you can join us. But you are to stay with one of us the whole time, and if a fight breaks out you are to ensure that you are safe over all else, understood?”

Cillian was almost too excited to listen as they began talking about their plans for travelling to the area around Redcliffe. As soon as the discussions were over, he raced off back to his room and began to pack his things. He’d never been allowed out on a mission, and he was looking forward to the chance to actually do something. He’d heard a little about the Hinterlands area from Solas, it was close to the Human town of Redcliffe. He’d never been to a human settlement before, other than Haven.

He thought about what he was getting himself in for. He had tried not to show it, but he’d been terrified when he’d seen all the demons in the valley leading to the Temple. He’d almost frozen when the pride demon had stormed out from the Breach. But he knew that he would have to fight a lot more before this whole ordeal was over. He wasn’t opposed to killing demons, they would likely just be sent back to the Fade. It was the idea of fighting living people, the rouge mages and Templars he’d heard about that troubled him greatly, the idea of killing a living person still made him worried to venture out into the world.

His thoughts were disrupted by a knock at the door. Cillian put the last of his things away in a pack, before getting up and walking to the door. Outside was Varric, his coat fluttering in the wind.

“Hey kid, I hear you’re coming with us,” he remarked.

“Yeah, Cassandra said I could come,” Cillian said, running and retrieving his things from the bed. “I didn’t think she’d let me.”

“Huh, I guess she’s only scary to me then,” Varric said as the two of them began to walk towards the place where Cassandra had told them to meet. Due to Varric’s short legs, Cillian had to walk a lot slower than he usually would, but he didn’t mind; he liked Varric, he told him fun stories.

“Hey Varric?”

“What’s up, kid?” The dwarf responded, looking up at Cillian.

"Leliana mentioned someone called the Champion of Kirkwall earlier. She said you two used to fight demons and Templars together. Who are they?”

Varric laughed. “I never told you about Hawke?” He said incredulously. “Well I never did think my work was overly popular with the Dalish.”

“We don’t really read anything that’s not on a dusty scroll our great ancestor didn’t pass down through the generations.” Cillian said.

“That’s a shame, I should really see if Merrill can’t do something about that.” He murmured to himself. “Well, Hawke – that’s the Champion of Kirkwall, was a man I met… Maker, about a decade ago now; he was a small-time smuggler when we first met, he and his sister Bethany were trying to get enough money together to keep their family fed, and maybe if they were lucky, to get their family home back. Then we went on this crazy expedition into the Deep Roads, fought off a Qunari Invasion and were there to see this war between the Mages and the Templars get started.”

“Wow.” Cillian said, somewhat taken aback. “You’ve really seen it all haven’t you?”

Varric chuckled. “Trust me, it wasn’t all fun and games, kid. I mean it was at times, but for a large part it was pretty… busy.”

"You think I might be able to meet him someday?” Cillian asked, interested to read this book of Varric’s.

They reached the edge of the camp, where Cassandra and Solas were waiting with some horses.

Cassandra looked over at the two walking over to them. “Ah, there you are. Are you both ready to leave?”

“Sure are. We’re going to be out there for a week or so I reckon with all that trouble down there, you sure you can put up with me for that long, Seeker?”

"I went under intense training in order to become a Seeker, Dwarf. I believe I will be fine. And if you prove too annoying I can just push off your horse.” Varric almost choked, as Cillian and Solas stifled their own laughter. They all finished loading up their steeds and mounted up, before setting off down the path which would lead them towards Redcliffe.

 

They were still a few days out from the Hinterlands, and Cillian was looking up at the night sky while the others slept. He himself sat up against a log and pulled out the book Varric had given him on the way. He looked over the cover, running his hands across the thick cover.

“The Tale of the Champion.” Cillian read, before opening the book to his current point and carrying on. He was thoroughly enjoyed reading about this man, Hawke. He sounded like quite a humorous person, and he liked reading the different things that he and his companions got up to. As he was reading about Hawke’s adventures in the Deep Roads, he heard an odd noise in the woods. He couldn’t quite place the noise, it sounded like a low growl, but it was unlike any he’d heard. Cillian put his book down and began to wander into the wood, following the noise. After several minutes of wandering, moving branches and scratching his leg on a particularly sharp stick, he found a large clearing, which was bathed in the light of the full moon. In the middle of clearing was a unique looking staff, stuck into the ground. Cillian walked towards it cautiously, aware of the dangers of mysterious magic and wild animals. As he got close to the staff however, he heard a twig snap and he spun around to find a wolf slowly stalking towards him. Cillian instinctively took a step back and pulled his knife out from the back pocket. As he moved away from the growling wolf, he heard more wolves pad quietly into the clearing. He focused his mana and a small ball of fire emerged above his open palm. He waved it towards the beasts, but to his dismay they barely noticed it, and snarled.

The first wolf to enter the clearing, which appeared to be the leader of the pack growled and leapt towards the young elf, its mouth wide open and its teeth bore like assassins daggers. Without warning, a large, grey shape charged from the woods and barreled into the wolf, beating it away with a powerful claw. The wolf flew across the clearing and hit a tree with a deadly crunch, before falling to the ground, dead.

Now that the new creature wasn’t moving around so much, Cillian could make out what it was. He’d never seen one before, but he’d heard about them in the stories he’d heard about the Curse of Keeper Zathrian, as his Keeper had called it. Not fully a man, yet not fully a beast, the werewolf stood tall above Cillian, its back to him. The other wolves began to run and leapt at it, as their leader had. The werewolf caught one of them in its teeth and bit down hard, blood pouring from the slain beast, and another it simply clawed at, creating several deep gashes in its side. As the wolves either fled the clearing or simply died where they lay, the werewolf turned its head and looked at Cillian, with a scarred, yellow eye, and as it did so, it began to change. It was slow at first, as the beast started to shrink to a more human size. Then its fur withdrew and its bone structure returned to that of a normal adult man. Before too long, there was a middle aged human man stood before him.

“Makers breath, changing like that is always aches like nothing else.” The man grumbled. He squinted at Cillian, who was cowering in fear besides the staff. “What’s up your arse, pup?” It was then apparently that he realised that he was completely naked. “Bloody shit, didn’t notice that. Now where did I leave my things?” He exclaimed to himself, before he wandered to a nearby stump and began searching around. He eventually found a large pack, and quickly pulled on some simple clothes.

“W- Who are you?” Cillian stammered quietly, not wanting to anger the man.

He turned back, a grin, almost a snarl, over his face. “Ah, so it talks after all. For a second there I thought it just pissed itself whenever danger was close.” He padded with surprising light steps, before crouching down in front of Cillian and the staff. “My name’s Olrick. And this,” He said, reaching over the young elf and pulling the staff out of the ground. “Is mine. Thanks for looking after it for me.”

Cillian stood, his earlier fears retreating now that he knew the man wasn’t a threat to him. “Mine’s Cillian, and I did not piss myself. I could’ve taken them.”

Olrick laughed, “Aha, it doesn’t just talk, it bites too.” His bestial smile quickly shifted into a scowl. “But let me tell you pup. Alone, those wolves would’ve torn you apart. There’s something screwing with these beasts, and it’s to do with that tear in the sky.”

“The Breach you mean.” Cillian corrected him.

“Is that what they’re calling it?” Olrick murmured. “Haven’t been around other people for a while.” He said. They both turned to look back into the woods, as the noise of several people approaching came from the direction of Cillian’s camp. “I’ll assume that’s your pack?” Cillian nodded. “Well then.” Olrick said, standing up. “That means it’s time for me to leave. Keep an ear out for more of these wolves, and maybe it’ll live long enough for us to meet again.” And with that, the hulking man fled into the woods, disappearing almost instantly behind the tree line.

“There you are.” Cassandra exclaimed as her, Solas and Varric entered the clearing, weapons drawn. They stopped as they noticed the slaughtered wolves around the clearing. “Did you do this?” she asked incredulously.

“No, there was another man here, a werewolf.”

“You’re shitting me? An actual werewolf?” Varric gasped.

“You’re sure it was a werewolf?” Solas questioned him.

“Well it was tall, wolfy and turned into a very naked man. So yeah, it was a werewolf.” Cillian said, a little annoyed that they didn’t seem to believe him.

“Well whatever it was, it appears to have left now.” Cassandra said, sheathing her weapon. “Come along; let us get back to camp. We should leave early tomorrow.” As she ushered him out of the clearing, he looked back, and could’ve sworn he saw a yellow glint from behind the trees as they walked off.

Once they were back at camp, Cillian lay down on his bedroll to try and sleep, knowing Cassandra would be watching him intently. But he couldn’t sleep, he was too worked up. He wondered where Olrick came from; he must be a mage of some description, owning a staff like that. But given his ferocity and his being a werewolf, Cillian would assume he wasn’t from one of the human Circles of Magi. Could he be a hedge mage like Solas? Or could he even be a blood mage? Exiled from society for his sinister practices. It was these thoughts that were swirling through his mind as he finally drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter II - Crossroads

The Hinterlands reminded Cillian of his time with the Clan; large open spaces, lots of trees and rocks to climb, and of course, conflict. He and the others had arrived at the forward camp near the Crossroads earlier that day, and had spent the morning replenishing their supplies. They wandered into the camp, looking for the lead scout so they could get a better understanding of the area. When they finally found her, she  seemed a little taken aback at Cillian’s age, but she recovered quickly.

“Herald of Andraste, I’ve heard the stories, everyone has, we know what you did at the Breach. Some people are a little bit nervous about the Herald of Andraste being a teenager. But you’ll get no backtalk here, that’s a promise.” She proclaimed.

Cillian was so happy to hear her say that he almost hugged her. He’d been so worried about people disrespecting him due to his age, even though he wasn’t in command or anything. But to know that people didn’t really care about his age was a massive relief.

“Thank you… Um, I didn’t catch your name.” Cillian said, his confident tone turning awkward upon his realization.

“Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service. I, well, all of us here, will do whatever we can to help.”

“Harding huh?” Varric chuckled. “Ever been to Kirkwall’s Hightown?”

“I can’t say I have, why?”

“You’d be Harding in… Ugh, never mind.” He trailed off. Cassandra looked away, making one of her disgusted noises she made whenever something happened she felt particular distain for, like Varric’s jokes. Harding paid no attention to this however, looking to Cassandra and Cillian, who were to the front of the group.

“We should get to business; the situation’s pretty… dire.” She said with some foreboding. “We came here to acquire horses from Redcliffe’s old horse master. I grew up here, and people always said that Dennet’s herds were the strongest and fastest this side of the Frostbacks. But with the fighting between the Mages and the Templars getting worse, we couldn’t get to Dennet. Maker only knows if he’s still alive.”

Cassandra nodded with a concerned scowl on her face. “What of Mother Giselle? Her letter said she would be meeting us in this area.”

“She’s down at the Crossroads helping the refugees and the wounded, the latest reports are saying that the war’s spread there too. Corporal Vale and some of our men are trying to protect the people but…” She paused, her expression was grim. “They won’t be able to hold out very long.”

“We have to go help them.” Cillian said to Cassandra, who nodded in approval. They walked through camp, and Cillian noted the groups of soldiers who would glance at him and watch him as he walked through the camp. They bowed their heads as he passed, and Cillian felt a glow of pride. As they walked down the path, Cillian noticed Solas gazing up a large ruin above them.

“Ever been there?” He asked.

“No, but it does certainly look interesting.” Solas responded, his voice calm as always. “I did sense something of interest here in the area, an old magic connected to the Fade.” The old elf looked down at him, a curious squint in his eyes. “Did you sense anything of note?”

Cillian frowned. “I’m not sure, I did get a funny feeling earlier, like there was something important, over that way.” He said, pointing off to the East.

“Indeed, that’s what I felt too.” His lip curled upwards in a small smile of approval. “You’re showing progress, Da’len.”

Cillian smiled, proud of Solas’ support. “So what do you think it is?” He asked.

“I know of some old Elven artifacts which would strengthen the Veil around them, I would wager that it is one of these.”

“Did I hear talk of a wager?” Varric called from the front of the group, where he and Cassandra looked out for any enemies or Inquisition soldiers. They stopped abruptly as they heard the clanging of steel on steel and cries from further down the path. They broke into a run, Cassandra drawing her sword, Varric readying Bianca and Solas and Cillian readying themselves to cast their spells. As they ran around the corner, they found a collection of soldiers clashing with a few Templars who had moved in from the East. Varric fired off a couple of bolts as Cassandra moved in, bolstered by Cillian’s barrier. Solas flung lightning at a man who closed in too close to Cillian, with such force the Templar’s armor was left red hot and smoking. They managed to push off the group, and as they did so, one of the Inquisition soldiers called out a group of rebel mages and sell swords charging down into the vicinity.

They managed to deal with the mages without any major issues, but just as Cillian began to relax, Solas cried out as an arrow lodged itself in his shoulder. Cillian turned around and found a small group of Templars coming down a hill, with one in the lead with a large tower shield. He immediately threw up a shield around him and Solas, and began trying to fight off the mages, throwing lightning from his staff. He could deal with the archers, but he couldn’t manage to get past the tall shield. Cillian scowled, and put away his staff, drawing his sword. He always preferred to use his staff but it wouldn’t get him past the shield. The man was mere feet away from him, and as he thrust his shield forward, Cillian rolled diagonally towards the man, so he was now behind the shield, and swung the sword around in an arc, cutting the man in the unprotected area around his hamstrings. The man cried out and fell to his knees, dropping the shield. Cillian could see a gap in his armor, at the back of his breastplate where there was space between it and the helmet. His neck was exposed and all Cillian would need to do to end the fight was drive his sword down into the gap.

He paused, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. The Templars hand gripped his sword as he tried to swing it back around. Cillian roared and without a second thought, he plunged the sword down into the man’s neck. Blood poured out from the wound, and the man croaked as he toppled away from Cillian, the sword still stuck in him. The young elf simply stood there, unsure of how to feel.

He wasn’t unaccustomed to death; he’d seen people from his Clan die from many things, from attacks from animals or humans, to disease or old age. But he’d never killed anyone himself before. He looked down at the limp body, blood still leaking over the bright metal of his armor. He wondered about who the man might have been. Did he have a family waiting for him? Was he someone’s son, or someone’s father? And now that was all gone thanks to him. Before he could think more on it, he felt strong hands on his shoulders and heard a familiar voice from above him.

“Cillian? Cillian, look at me, don’t look at him.” Cassandra’s arms held him firmly as she turned him away from the Templar and looked him in the eyes. “Are you hurt?” She asked, looking over him.

“No.” Cillian said, his voice quiet and almost emotionless.

“Good.” She said, and in her eyes, he could see all the pity and regret she felt right now. “Cillian, you didn’t do anything wrong, it couldn’t be avoided. If you hadn’t taken action, he would’ve killed you.”

He nodded, still unsure of how to feel. She hugged him hard, and as she did, he felt tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

 

It had been almost two days since the incident at the Crossroads, and Cillian was sitting in his tent. He’d taken to sketching in a small notebook to keep him from getting stressed. He was just finishing a drawing he’d been working on, he’d been drawing a halla from what he could remember of them. As he was finishing up the last details of the background, the tent flap opened up, and Varric poked his head in.

“Hey, kid. How you doing?” he asked.

“Better.” Cillian replied. “You have any luck down at the Crossroads?”

“Yeah, we’ve managed to calm things down a bit, we’ve got everyone food and blankets to keep them warm, and we cleared away some of the larger groups of Mages and Templars. Today we’re going to try get in touch with Dennet, see if we can’t get the Inquisition some horses. You feel up to an outing?”

Cillian paused. He hadn’t been out much in the past couple of days, not since he killed the Templar. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Alright, let’s go meet the others.” Cillian got his supplies together in his pack and the two of them wandered down the path back to the Crossroads. After their fight with the Templars, the Inquisition soldiers had secured some of the pathways around the area. They met Cassandra and Solas at the edge of the settlement, before them stood a large tunnel. The two looked happy to see Cillian there, with Cassandra patting him on the shoulder as he approached. They began off down the path, through the tunnels and across the fields which would lead them to the horse masters farm.

As they walked through an abandoned camp along the road, Varric turned to Cillian. “Hey Kid, if you don’t mind me asking, what was it you were doing back there in the tent?”

Cillian looked down, blood rising to his cheeks. “Oh that, I sometimes like to draw when I get a bit overwhelmed or when I have some free time.”

Solas looked around, seemingly interested in the conversation. “Really? I would be interested to see some of the things you’ve drawn, they may prove insightful.”

“Indeed.” Cassandra piped up, walking up so she was in line with the rest of the group. “These drawings of yours could present new information we can use.”

Cillian was quite exasperated by this point. “I-It’s nothing really, nothing too interesting, I just draw animals, people or places, nothing you could learn anything from.”

Varric chuckled as they came across a broken bridge leading over a stream. They each had to slowly make their way to the end of the first half of the bridge and hop over. Cassandra, Solas and Cillian made the jump over the gap without any problems, but when it came to Varric jumping over the bridge he only just managed to make it, and would’ve fallen into the river if not for Cassandra catching him by the collar of his coat. After they straightened Varric out and the other three had finished laughing, they carried on down the road. As they came further down the road, to where the forest which had lined the path up till then cleared up, Cassandra, who was at the head of the party, stopped abruptly.

“Hold.” She said, drawing her sword.

“What is it?”  Cillian asked, taking his staff out and readying a barrier.

“Wolves, don’t worry they should leave.” She said, advancing slowly. The wolves, which Cillian could now see, stared at them from the hill they stood on. There was something vaguely familiar about them, and he suddenly remembered where he’d seen wolves like that before.

“Damnit, Cassandra-“Cillian began to shout, but before he could warn her, the wolves leapt at them, teeth bared and eyes sparkling with dangerous intent. Cassandra’s shield was up in a flash, repelling the animal back. Varric drew Bianca with swiftness that proved his deep and deadly skill with the weapon, and quickly loosed several bolts into one of the wolves. Cillian and Solas both focused their magic, forming barriers around the group, before joining the fray. Cillian heard a wolf lunging at him, so he span around and hit it across the face with the blazing end of his staff, knocking it away. It took them a while, longer than it should have, but they finally dispatched the wolves. The four of them were quite tired now, and they found a small abandoned farm house to recover in.

Cassandra looked at Cillian. “Were these wolves similar to the ones you encountered back in the woods?” She asked.

“They seem pretty similar yes.” Cillian said, thinking back to his previous encounter with the wolves and his meeting with Olrick.

“You seemed to struggle as much as we did, Kid, maybe there was a werewolf with you after all.” Varric commented, slinging Bianca onto his back.

“Wait, you didn’t believe me?” Cillian retorted, looking around the group and realizing that none of them had believed him. “Why? Cos I’m young?”

“No, of course not Da’len.” Solas said, raising a reassuring hand. “It’s just… Werewolves are not very common nowadays, ever since the incident with Keeper Zathrian during the Fifth Blight, nobody has really seen any werewolves.”

Cillian scowled and looked away. “So, where’s this farm we’re heading to then.” He said, moving on from the conversation.

“It should be just over that hill, about another ten minute walk from here.” She said, looking at him remorsefully, obviously feeling guilty.

“If it’s that close I say we head out now, get there and talk to Dennet as soon as possible.” He said, standing. They nodded and followed him out as they started down the path to the farm.

 

As Cassandra had predicted, it had taken them only ten minutes or so to reach the farm. There were several buildings and a large stable where some horses were tethered.

“Wow, so this is what a human farm looks like. I’ve never really seen one up close before.” Cillian said, walking through and looking at a horse.

“You’ve never seen a farm before?” Cassandra asked.

“No, I spent most of my life in forests away from civilization. I know what farms are, but I’ve just never been to one.” He said as they reached the main house. They knocked on the door, and a few seconds later a dark skinned man with a greying beard and coarse skin came to the door. He looked at the group, pausing as he looked over Cillian.

“I’d heard the Inquisition was heading to the farm.” He said, turning and walking back inside. The group followed him in, and he sat down on a chair. “You’re here about the horses I assume.”

“The Inquisition needs your horses; they will help us to get to people in need.” Cassandra said.

Dennet shrugged. “Look, I know the Inquisition is doing good work, we’ve received word from some friends down at the Crossroads. But with all the rouge Mages and Templars, as wells as those damn wolves, we can’t just take a load of horses to the Inquisition without them getting killed.”

Cillian piped up. “Well we’ve dealt with the Mages and Templars in the area. If we can offer your land some additional protection and deal with the wolves, would you be open to helping the Inquisition?”

Dennet glanced at Cillian. “I never thought the Inquisition would send children out into this war, it’s a damn shame.” He sighs.

Cillian puffed out his chest a little, visibly frustrated. “I’m not a child, and I’m here by choice thank you, I can handle myself.”

The older man looked a little taken aback by the outburst. “I meant no disrespect, I think it’s noble of you to want to help despite your age, there’s not a lot of people as young as you who could handle it.” He says. Dennet looked at them. “Alright, if you can deliver on all that, I’ll supply you with all the horses I can. Speak to my wife, Elaina about the wolves, my farmhand, Bron should have some ideas about how to make the area safer, and if you talk to my daughter Seanna, she’ll supply the four of you with horses, consider it a pre-payment for your help.”

The four of them walked outside, and Cassandra looked at Cillian, an eyebrow raised. “That was impressive, making that deal.” She smirked.

“I-It was nothing really.” He said, blushing a little.

“I’ll go speak to this farmhand. Solas, you speak to the wife about the wolves, and Cillian and Varric can see about getting us these horses.” Cassandra stated, before walking towards the house Dennet had indicated. Varric and Cillian wandered off towards the stables.

“Hope they’ve got small ones, getting up on one of those high up horses seems like a struggle.” Varric grumbled as they approached the stable. As they approached, Cillian saw a girl who he assumed must be Seanna. She looked about his age, with very short black hair, almost cut to the skin and light brown skin. Her eyes were blueish grey, and they sparkled as she tended to the horses.

She looked up as the two approached and she smiled. “You must be the Herald of Andraste.” She said cheerfully. “I must say, you’re certainly as impressive as the stories make you out to be.”

“Oh I’m nothing special; I just was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Cillian said, looking at the horses.

Seanna giggled. “They never said you were funny as well as strong.”

“Oh I mostly use magic; I don’t really need to be strong at all.” He smiled innocently. He noticed Varric turn away from the conversation, but thought nothing of it. “We’re here because your father said we could have some horses.”

“Ah right, well I can sort that for you.” She said, looking back into the stables. “There’s four of you right? An adult human, elf and dwarf, and a strapping young elf. Let me just get some horses out.” She walked into the stable, and came out a few minutes later leading four horses out into the field. She showed the two of them how to mount them, helping Varric up first and then Cillian.

“You’re a natural.” She smiled at Cillian. “Well I should get back to the stables, but… you should come say hello the next time you’re around, it’d be nice to see you.” She said, blushing, before running back to the stables.

“What a nice girl.” Cillian said, looking at Varric.

The dwarf sighed. “Kid, do you know what flirting is?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in exasperation.

“Well, I guess I understand the core concept, why?” The young elf responded, confused by Varric’s question.

“You do realise that girl was flirting with you right? And not very subtly either.” He said, grinning at the bright red colour Cillian’s cheeks turned upon learning this.

“What? You can’t be serious? Why would she be flirting with me?” He stammered, trying to wrap his head around the idea. No girls had ever shown any interest in him back in his clan, so he’d never really experienced flirting first hand.

“Well, you’re an important young man who’s got a lot going for him. Plus I imagine being an elf is quite interesting for a girl who doesn’t seem to leave the farm very often.” Varric said. Cillian still couldn’t quite grasp the concept of being flirted with. As he sat there on the horse, still blushing and confused, Cassandra and Solas walked down to where they were waiting.

“Bron, the farmhand, told me that there are often unexpected bandit raids in the area and along the road. He suggested setting up guard towers around the farmland to allow them to have better visibility. I’ve sent word to Corporal Vale at the Crossroads, so the Inquisition soldiers there can see to that and set up a camp in the area, so all we need to deal with is the wolves.” Cassandra said, looking at Solas, waiting to hear his findings.

“The wife, Elaina, told me that these wolves have a den down in the valley north-east of here.” Solas said, mounting his horse. He looked at Cillian and noted his red face. “Are you alright Da’len?” He asked curiously.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright.” Cillian stammered, still reeling from Varric’s comment about Seanna.

“Dennet’s daughter was seemingly quite fond of our Herald.” Varric smirked, earning him a scathing look from the young elf as they started riding for the wolves den.

“Oh really?” Cassandra laughed, glancing at Cillian with a smile. “Has he been abusing his title to… date?”

“What? No!” The young elf exclaimed, turning even redder.

“Experiencing romance is nothing for a young man to be ashamed of Da’len. It can be a valuable experience.” Solas smiled, enjoying making light of his situation.

“Can we stop talking about this please? I did actually have an idea about these wolves.” Cillian said, exasperated and desperate to change the subject.

“Oh? What were you thinking?” Cassandra asked, choosing to let him be and interested in his views on the task at hand.

“Well, back when I was in the woods, Olrick thought that-“

“Sorry, who?” Varric asked, confused.

“Ugh, the Werewolf, his name’s Olrick.” Cillian replied, annoyed that they still simply dismissed his story about the Werewolf. “Anyway, he thought that maybe the wolves in the area were being affected by the Breach. Maybe there’s a demon involved, making them more aggressive.”

Cassandra looked at Solas. “Could that be possible? You know more about Spirits and Demons than anyone, what do you think?”

“Certain demons could drive the wolves in the area to be more feral I suppose. A demon of Rage would be the most likely culprit, infecting their minds with anger and fury. Although, if we’re considering all options, it could be a Terror demon, causing the wolves to lash out more aggressively in an attempt to survive.” He said, his face thoughtful. They reached the wolves den and dismounted, leaving the horses tethered up outside as the advanced inside.

“Careful, if there is a demon behind this, we should be cautious.” Cassandra whispered, her shield raised in front of her. Varric held Bianca at the ready, prepared to fire upon any enemies they might come across. Solas and Cillian had already formed barriers, and their staves crackled with arcane power, ready to repel wolves or demons. The mark glowed slightly, green energy flickering from his palm. A shriek split the air, and wolves darted out from around the corner. Cassandra’s shield kept them off the group, and Cillian had had the forethought to lay down runes, which burst and sent flames shooting from the ground. The wolves howled in pain and ran away, unable to fight them and the flames. The carried on further until the cave opened up and they saw the demon crouched in a corner. It was tall, with long, slender limbs and pale, green-tinged skin, which almost looked as if it had been stretched over the creatures skeleton. It turned towards them, shrieking again. Green demonic energy swirled around its feet as it sunk into the floor.

“Watch out!” Solas cried as the group jumped away. The Terror demon sprung out from the floor where they’d been stood. It shrieked and swung it’s arm, the back of its thin hand catching Solas in the stomach and throwing him across the cave. Cassandra moved in, shield up, and managed to get a few jabs in as it swung at her shield. The demon was too thin for Varric to hit with his bolts, so he fired at the wolves that were still around, keeping them at bay. Cillian swung his staff over his head, creating a wall of fire, which cut off the wolves, and kept them away from Solas. Once the wall was up, he turned back to the demon. He scowled, most of his magic was too widespread to deal with this while Cassandra was so close to it. He felt an itch on his palm and saw the Mark flicker, then he had an idea. He knew that it could close rifts, but he wondered if he could open them too. He raised his hand and concentrated, which was difficult due to the fire, wolves and the demon. As he focused, green sparks began shooting through the air, before a small rift opened. The demon screamed as it was sucked back through into the Fade, the rift snapping shut behind it. Cillian fell down to one knee, panting. He’d never used the Mark like that before, and it really took the energy out of him.

“Cillian, are you okay?” Cassandra asked, kneeling next to him and checking over him, a worried look on her face.

“I… I’m fine.” He panted, tired from the drain on his magical energy. He looked around, checking to see that the fight was over. The wolves had been dealt with by Varric, who was now checking on Solas.

“Good.” She said, before giving him a sharp whack upside the head. “That’s for trying something so risky. We don’t know enough about the Mark yet for you to be pulling stunts like that.”

“Ow! It worked didn’t it?” Cillian yelped, clutching the back of his head. She smirked and helped him to his feet as the group left the cave, found the horses and headed back to Dennet’s farm to deliver the news.


	3. Chapter III - A Matter of Faith

“So wait, explain that bit again?” Cillian asked, confused.

“Right, what you’re looking for is to get… You know what, I’ll show you when we get back to Haven.”

“What’re you doing now, Varric?” Cassandra acts, her tone prematurely disapproving.

“Nothing nefarious, Seeker. The kid asked me to teach him how to play Wicked Grace.”

“You’re teaching the Herald of Andraste, a child no less, how to gamble.” She sighed. Cillian smiled. This had been the general tone of conversation since they’d left Haven several days ago. After their encounter with the wolves they’d returned to the farm. Dennet had thanked them and promised his horses to the Inquisition. They’d left not long after, returning to Haven to report back, and discuss their next move. Mother Giselle had spoken to Cassandra at the Crossroads and told her that it would benefit the Inquisition’s cause to travel to Val Royeaux and convince the Chantry clerics to calm their hatred of the Inquisition.  They’d been on the road for almost a week now, and Cillian still didn’t understand why they all hated him so much, and he was even further from understanding Wicked Grace.

“It might be a valuable skill someday, maybe it’ll help him… negotiate with someone?” Varric said, scrambling for an excuse. “Plus it’ll be better if we get a big group together to do it.”

“Ugh.” Cassandra scoffed, as they reached the top of the hill they’d been climbing and Val Royeaux came into view.

“Oh my…” Cillian gasped, looking at the sea of color before him. There was more gold over the buildings of the city than the young elf had seen in his entire life. They approached the city, passing other people, some entering Val Royeaux and some leaving. He felt people giving him strange looks all the while.

“I guess they recognize us.” Varric murmured as they walked on, having dismounted and left the horses outside the city.

“Your skills of observation never cease to amaze me, Varric. But I doubt we’ll encounter any violence within the city. They still mourn the death of the Most Holy. ” Cassandra replied. As they walked through a gate, an Inquisition scout ran over to them, and Cillian recognized them from his time in Haven, a woman by the name of Asha.

She knelt and bowed her head. “My lord Herald.” She said, speaking to Cillian before greeting the others. Cillian felt himself blush ever so slightly; he’d never been addressed as a lord before.

“You’re one of Leliana’s people. What have you found?” Cassandra asked, her authoritative voice making Cillian glad she wasn’t talking to him.

“The Chantry Mothers await you in the Summer Bazaar, just down there.” She said, pointing down the thoroughfare towards the market at the end. “But… so do a great many Templars.”

“There are Templars here?” Cassandra asked, her voice now cautious, and Cillian could feel her mind racing, already planning for attack and possible retreat.

“Yes, Seeker. The people here seem to think the Templars will protect them from… well from the Inquisition. They’re gathering on the other side of the market, I believe that’s where the Templars intend to meet you.”

Cassandra looked back to the others. “Only one thing to do then.” She said as they started on down the avenue. Cillian looked around him as they walked, examining the statues lining sides of the path.

“This is the Avenue of Reflective Thought; it’s the main way to access the Summer Bazaar. These statues are Andrastian martyrs. “ Cassandra commented as they walked into the main market. Cillian was amazed by the Bazaar, he’d never seen anything like it; merchants all around selling trinkets, jewelry, clothes, weapons, anything you could want. He could smell food from restaurants further in the city which made his mouth water. It was easy for even Cillian, who had lived in the woods away from Human civilization for most of his life, to appreciate the sheer luxury of the city, and he understood why people viewed Orlais as being so pampered in their lifestyles. We walked around the large statue in the middle of the market and found a large crowd, gathered around a podium where a couple of chantry sisters are talking to the congregation.

“Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!” One of the sisters called out to the crowd, and Cillian noted the Templar stood beside her. “Together we mourn our Divine. Her naïve and beautiful heart silenced by treachery! You all wonder what will become of her murderer. Well, wonder no more!” She crowed, pointing a thin finger towards Cillian. He felt the crowd staring at him, and felt the fear rise inside him. “Behold, the so-called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell. We say this is a False Prophet! The Maker would send no Elf, and certainly not a child, in our hour of need!”

Cillian shrank back a little, intimidated under the scrutiny of both the crowd and the sisters. He felt Cassandra behind him, and knew that he had to speak up, if Cassandra spoke for him, people would think he was weak and hate him more. “W-We came here in peace, just to talk and defend ourselves, and this is what you do? Why not just sit down and talk, so we can deal with the real threat?”

Cassandra spoke up as well. “It’s true! The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!”

“It is already too late!” The sister calls out, as a contingent of Templars approaches the raised area. The man in the lead seems to radiate authority, his grey hair tied back and the lines on his face look as if they’d been carved into oak. “The Templars have returned to the Chantry! They will face this ‘Inquisition’, and the people will be safe once more!” The leader, or Lord Seeker as Cillian believed his title was, walked past the sister, glaring at Cillian with eyes like cold stone. Another Templar walks up to the Chantry Sister and without warning, slams a fist into the side of her head, sending her straight to the floor. There was a gasp from across the crowd, and the Lord Seeker walked to the dark-skinned Templar who had been there before.

“Still yourself, she is beneath us.” He said, his voice like hard and deep like rough like the side of a cliff.

“What is the meaning of this?” Cassandra exclaimed, he hand around the hilt of her sword.

“Her claim to ‘authority’ is an insult to the Chantry. Much like that child’s claim.” He says, looking down at them from the stand. He began walking down the steps and away.

Cassandra pursued him. “Lord Seeker Lucius, it is imperative that we speak with-”

“You will not address me.” He interrupted, not even looking at her as he carried on. Cassandra seemed taken aback. Cillian was cautious; Lucius seemed to be treating Cassandra as if they had never met.

“Lord Seeker?” She asked, and Cillian wondered if she’d made the same observation he had.  
            “Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet, a child no less, as Andraste’s Prophet. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He said coldly to Cassandra, before raising his voice and addressing everyone else. “You should all be ashamed! The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the rebel Mages.” He pointed at Cillian and Cassandra with an accusing finger. “You are the ones who have failed! You who’d leash our righteous blades with doubt and fear! If you came here to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine.”

Cillian was sick of listening to the man disrespecting Cassandra, and spoke up, his voice holding a new defiance and confidence it hadn’t before. “Don’t talk to her about having failed, she’s been working herself half to death trying to deal with the threat of the Breach, what’ve you been doing?” He shouted, glaring at Lucius with all the intimidation he could muster.

“You talk of us having failed? We have stood staunchly against the threat of the Mages, while you parade around with your false ‘Inquisition’ and disrespect the name of the Maker, a god not even of your people.”

As he says this, the Templar from before walked up to Lucius. “But Lord Seeker… What if he really was sent by the Maker? What if-?”

Lucius glared at him, as if he were about to run him through right there. “Ser Barris, do not think to question me again. I will make the Templar Order a power that stands alone against the Void. We deserve recognition, independence!” He looked back at the group. “You have shown me nothing, and your Inquisition… less than nothing.” Turning his back on them, he called out to his men. “Templars! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march back to Therinfal!” With that, the group moved off, leaving the area.

“Charming fellow, isn’t he?” Varric murmured as he wandered over, having held back with Solas to keep an eye out for trouble.

“Has Lucius gone mad?” Cassandra barked, glaring after the precession of Templars. “Has the man completely abandoned reason?”

“Do you think we’d be able to make him see sense?” Cillian asked, looking at Cassandra.

“If you’d asked me a year ago I’d have said yes, but now? I’m unsure.” She said, looking confused. She glanced down at Cillian. “I appreciate you defending me, Cillian. It may not have helped us garner favor with the Templars, but… thank you.”

Cillian blushed a little. “Oh… You’re welcome. I didn’t like how he was saying those things about you. I mean, what does he know?” He said, still looking a little annoyed.

Cassandra smiled. “Well, thank you, it’s good to know you’re looking out for me.” She said, rustling his hair gently.

“We should return to Haven, there doesn’t seem to be much else we can do here.” Solas remarked. The others nodded and they walked around the large monument to get back down the thoroughfare they’d arrived through. As they walked however, there was a loud whistling sound and an arrow thudded into the floor. They jumped back on instinct, and as they regained their composure, Cillian knelt down.

“There’s a note on here.” He commented, pulling it off and reading it aloud. “People say you’re special. I want to help, and I can bring everyone. There’s a baddie in Val Royeaux. I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for the red things in the market, the docks, and ‘round the café, and maybe you’ll meet him first. Bring swords.” He read, not thinking it necessary to comment on the border or the doodles which someone drew on the note.

“Red things? Some kind of dead drop maybe?” Varric remarked.

“Possibly, we should look around. If there’s someone out there looking to hurt me, I’d rather get to them before they get to me.” Cillian said. They began looking around, and after an hour or so of searching around the area surrounding the Bazaar, they’d found the items that had been left for them, which told them that the person in question would be in Val Royeaux that night.

“We should stay the night, deal with this, then head back to Haven.” Varric said.

“Agreed, but if I’m not mistaken, that man over there is here for us.” Solas replied, pointing over at a man, who was looking at Cillian with a warm yet slightly impatient look on his face.

They approached him and he smiled. “You are the Herald of Andraste, are you not? I have an invitation for you.” He said, handing over an envelope. Cillian had never seen a more extravagant letter in his life.

“You are cordially invited to attend my salon held at the chateau of Duke Bastien de Ghislain. Yours, Vivienne de Fer, First Enchanter of Montsimmard, Enchanter to the Imperial Court.” Cillian read out. He turned to Cassandra. “Is this for a party? I’ve never been to a human party.”

“The parties of Madame de Fer are well known as the most elegant and luxurious in all of Orlais.” The man pipes up.

“Orlesian parties are usually exercises in decadence and frivolity. They are abhorrent.” Cassandra groans, and Cillian saw the messengers face drop slightly, he was clearly very proud of the parties.

“I suppose we should go, if this Madame de Fer is as important as they say, she could help the Inquisition.” Cillian said, silently interested in the nature of Human parties. They hadn’t really had parties among the Dalish, and the closest thing they’d had to a party were events that he wasn’t invited to. “So we’ve got a party and an ambush to go through, we’re going to have a busy time of it until we go back to Haven.” He said with a small smile.

“We should go make camp somewhere outside the city.” Cassandra said, starting back towards the Avenue.

“Hold up Seeker.” Varric said, pulling a coin purse out of his pocket. “We’re in Val Royeaux; we may as well stay somewhere nice.” Cassandra sighed, but Cillian could tell she was secretly somewhat pleased at the prospect of sleeping in a nice bed rather than on the road.

“I don’t mean to cause a scene.” Solas says, pointing towards the avenue. “But I do believe that’s the Grand Enchanter.” They turned around and there, true enough was a small Elven woman, standing in the shadow of the gate. They approached, as she looked around cautiously.

“I was hoping I could have a moment of your time.” Fiona said as they joined her in the Avenue of Reflective Thought.

“Grand Enchanter Fiona, leader of the Mage Rebellion. Is it not dangerous for you to be here?” Solas asked.

“I’d heard about this gathering, and I wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste for myself. To see someone so young in such a position. You have my sympathy.” She said, looking at Cillian sadly before continuing. “If it’s help with the Breach you seek, perhaps my people are the wiser option.”

“If I’m correct, the mages weren’t willing to talk to the Inquisition before. Why now?” Cillian asked, attempting to sound authoritative like Cassandra.

“Because now I’ve seen what you are. And I’ve seen the Chantry for what it is. Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe: come meet with the Mages. An alliance could be beneficial for the both of us. I hope to see you there. Au revoir, my lord Herald.” She said, walking past them and down the Avenue.

 The group looked at each other. “So, what do we think?” Cillian asked.

“We still have business to deal with here in Orlais; we can discuss this issue further upon our return.” Cassandra said. “We should go, we’ll have to get some rest before we pursue these leads.” She said, leading the group into the city to find somewhere to stay.


	4. Chapter IV - Fresh Faces

Cillian wandered around Haven, walking down the path which only a few weeks earlier he’d climbed up with Cassandra to try and deal with the Breach. He walked past Harrit’s forge and spotted Blackwall sitting on a box, working over his sword with a whetstone. Cillian’s first interaction with the Warden had been interesting. He, Vivienne, Sera and Cassandra had followed up on a lead from Leliana regarding a Grey Warden recruiter in the Hinterlands, and had come across the grizzled veteran as he and some conscripts were being attacked by bandits.  They had helped fight away the bandits and Blackwall had looked at him and asked where his parents were. It had taken a frustrating amount of time to convince him that he wasn’t a child who’d lost his family, and he’d ended up having to show Blackwall the Anchor before he believed him and eventually agreed to join the Inquisition.

“Ah, Herald. I didn’t see you there.” He said, looking up and seeing Cillian watch him over the wall. “Haven seems like quite the place.” He remarked, beckoning around at the surrounding area.

“It’s not a bad place.” Cillian said, looking over to where Cullen was training soldiers. “Are you settling in alright?”

“Quite well, thank you. I’m used to moving around a lot so it’s easy to get used to a new place.” He says, smiling. Cillian liked Blackwall; he seemed like a nice, genuine person. It also helped that he’d always been interested in the Grey Wardens.

“So you’re a recruiter for the Grey Wardens? What does that involve?” Cillian asked, leaning against the wall.

“Oh you know, going around finding people who are willing and capable of fighting Darkspawn. It’s not overly exciting, but it has to be done.” He says, putting the sword down and looking up at Cillian.

“You must be an excellent fighter though, having fought Darkspawn for so long.” Cillian said, examining Blackwall’s sword, slightly scratched and clearly the winner of many fights. “What’s it like? Fighting Darkspawn?” He asked.

“Ah, I do my best.” He chuckled, clearly pleased by the compliment. “And it’s difficult; the Wardens are the only ones who can kill the Archdemons, so the training we have to go through is grueling, it would kill most normal men. But Wardens drink Darkspawn blood to become resistant to the Taint. It’s a ritual all must take, and it kills about half of them I reckon. If you’re not a Warden, you have to be very careful around Darkspawn. Their blood is extremely toxic, and even the smallest drop can kill you within a week. The corruption is a slow and painful death, ravaging your body. I’m told it’s the worst and most painful death imaginable.” He says grimly. He saw the somewhat unnerved look on Cillian’s face and coughed. “But, I’m certain that you’ll never have to deal with any Darkspawn like the Wardens would.” He said, patting Cillian’s arm reassuringly.

“I should be getting on, I’m supposed to meet Cassandra at the Chantry soon, I don’t want to keep her waiting too long.” Cillian said, not wanting to get whacked again.

“Alright lad, I’ll talk to you soon.” Blackwall said, retrieving his sword and heading over to the training dummies. Cillian walked away from the Forge and past where The Iron Bull and his company had set up their camp. He’d never met a mercenary group before, but they were a lot nicer than he’d expected them to be. He’d only seen a bit of them, but he’d spoken with Iron Bull and Krem on their way back from The Storm Coast and they both seemed like nice people. He’d been confused when he’d heard one of the Inquisition soldiers insult Krem on their trip back, calling him a freak. He didn’t know why anyone would think Krem was a freak, he seemed like a nice, young man to Cillian, and he’d been quick to shout at the man, telling him never to say that again, and he’d be informing Cassandra of the man’s comments. Krem had thanked him for the support, and upon Cillian’s questioning, he’d explained his circumstances.

“Hey there.” He heard as he passed their camp, roused from his thoughts by Krem’s voice. Cillian turned to see Bull and him standing by a tent, chatting and examining the landscape.

“Hey guys.” He said, walking over to the two. He had to slightly strain his neck in order to look at Bull properly; he only came up to the Qunari’s stomach.

“How’s it going, Imekari?” Bull said, looking down at Cillian with a smile.

“I still don’t know what that means.” Cillian chuckled, curious about its meaning but still liking it.  

“It’s a Qunlat word, means Child.” Bull smirked, patting his arm, almost knocking him over. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. Under the Qun people get named after what they are, guess this is just the Qunari in me showing.”

“At least that’s all he’s showing.” Krem grinned, and Cillian stifled a laugh. He got along well with Krem, and the young man had even promised to teach Cillian to fight. He tended to rely on his magic and staff, and wanted something more dependable to keep with him, just in case. “How’ve you been getting on, kid?”

“I’ve been fine, just been going around seeing people. Vivienne said she’ll teach me how to use her Knight-Enchanting magic, and Solas said he’ll be teaching me more about the Fade.”

“Learning new tricks from everyone huh?” Bull chuckled, patting Krem on the back. “Heard this one’ll be teaching you about fighting, if you get good maybe you can practice with me.”

“Why would he need that? If he trains with me he’ll end up far better than you.” Krem grins, thumping Bull’s arm. The Qunari laughed and sat down by the fire. Krem looked at Cillian. “We can train later if you’re busy now.”

“I still have some people to check in with before I see Cassandra about our next move, but I should have some time later.” He smiled. He walked away and through the gates toward the center of Haven. Cillian always felt a little self-conscious when walking around Haven, knowing that everyone was staring at him. He’d begun to grow used to it, but every so often the weight of everything would hit him, and when that happened all he wanted to do was run back to his quarters and hide from the world. He walked by the tavern, and looked in curiously.

“Hey, Kid! Come in here!” he heard as he passed the Singing Maiden. Peering around the corner, he saw Sera sitting at one of the tables, waving to him and beckoning him in. He paused, unsure of whether he’d even be allowed inside given his age.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re not drinking anything so no worries, yeah?” Sera called, throwing a glance over to Flissa, who simply shrugged and began wiping the bar. Cillian smiled and walked over to join Sera, looking around with interest. He’d never been inside a human tavern before, and he was intrigued by all the slightly intoxicated patrons. He sat down opposite Sera, as she took a sip from her tankard. He wasn’t sure what to think of Sera, she was an elf like him, but at the same time she was so completely different from any elf she’d ever met before. From what he’d gleamed from the brief conversations they’d had since they met, she’d been raised by humans and rejected anything to do with Elven culture. He’d noticed that Solas had an issue with this, he found it to be quite interesting, he’d never encountered someone raised by a totally different culture before.

“How’re you finding Haven, Sera?” He asked, hoping nobody would notice that he was a little too short for the seat upon which he found himself.

“It’s fine I guess. Although, I thought it’d be bigger.” She said, before pausing and laughing, snorting a little. “Hear that? I meant the stronghold but it sounded like… well, it’s funny, right?’

Cillian blushed a little and looked away, although he did chuckle a little at her comment.

“Anyway, stopping wars should earn more sovereigns than this. Need things back to normal, for coins to be flowing again. Another reason the Templars and Mages need to be sat down.”

“Isn’t that what the Conclave was all about? It’s apparently not that easy.” Cillian remarked.

“Yes it is.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“Why? Because it went and blew up the first time? Doesn’t mean it’ll happen every time right? They just need to sit down somewhere else.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Cillian commented. He wondered if it was as simple as just organizing another Conclave, and bringing the Mages and Templars back together. “I don’t think that would work anymore, from what I’ve heard they were at each other’s throats before, now it’d be even worse.”

“Frigg that, they just need to sit down, talk it out, then everything can be normal again and the coin will start flowing again.” She said, matter-of-factly as she set her tankard down.

“Well when you put it like that I guess all that’s left to do is end all the wars and stitch up the sky.”

Sera laughed. “You’re daft, yeah? Most people can’t see how stupid this all is.” She smiled at him, with her particular mischievous grin. “I think I’ll like you, little lord Herald. Maybe you’re a little chosen after all.”

“Thanks, Sera.” Cillian replied, not quite believing her but appreciating the sentiment. He stood up, having to practically hop off the seat. “I should go, I have to go meet Cassandra and the others in the Chantry.”

“Go on, get to work little Herald. I’m gonna go kick someone out of a bed.” She said getting up herself. She left out the main entrance while Cillian took the side one out towards the Chantry, and severely hoped she wasn’t speaking about literally kicking people. He walked up the steps and towards the large building, and noticed Cassandra outside.

“Ah Cillian, there you are.” She said as he approached.

“Sorry I took so long, was just chatting with the Chargers and then Sera.” Cillian said apologetically.

“It’s fine, I only just got here myself.” She said, and Cillian was almost sure she was lying to make him feel better.  “We shouldn’t keep the others waiting, I imagine they wish to discuss what transpired in Val Royeaux.” She said, opening the doors and walking inside with Cillian. As they walked in, the advisors; Cullen, Leliana and Josephine walked down the through the hall to join them.

“We heard about what happened in Val Royeaux.” Josephine commented as they arrived at one another.

“How?”

“My people in the city sent word ahead, their reports arrived a few days ago, and we’ve had time to weigh our options.” Leliana said, a small smile on her face. Cillian knew that Leliana was very proud of her spy network, and he understood why. Her agents were almost everywhere, feeding her information on everything and everyone.

“It’s a shame the Templars seem to have abandoned their senses, they would’ve made valuable allies against the Breach.” Cullen remarked.

“It wasn’t a total loss; at least we know how to approach the Mages and Templars now.” Cillian pointed out. He always felt a little awkward at meetings like this, he never felt like he had the right to weigh in.

“Do we? The Mage rebellion is a mess, and the Lord Seeker does not appear to be the man I remember him to be.”

“True, the reports I have received regarding the Templars and the Lord Seeker have been… Very odd.”

“We must look into it.” Cullen said, defiantly. “I’m certain not all in the Order will support the Lord Seeker.”

“Or we could simply approach the Mages in Redcliffe instead.” Josephine pointed out.

“Are you suggesting that the Mage rebellion is more united than the Templars? For all we know it could be ten times worse.”

Cillian listened to the group bicker for a full minute, incredulous about how they could be arguing over something like this. Finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer. “Look, I was the one Fiona invited to Redcliffe, and I’m the one the Templars seem to have a problem with, so why are we bickering amongst ourselves about this? Let’s just make a decision and be done with it.” He blurted out, before catching himself and blushing. He hadn’t meant to shout and he felt bad for criticizing them.

“I agree, The Herald is the one who has been targeted, at the end of the day, it is his choice where we go” Cassandra said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

The advisors composed themselves, seemingly a little taken aback at the young elf’s sudden outburst. Josephine was the first to speak. “We shouldn’t discount the Mages, their magic would be of great assistance in closing the Breach.”

“They are powerful, Ambassador. But as Cullen said before, they might be uncoordinated and desperate.” Cassandra replied.

“You think it might be some kind of trap?” Cillian asked, annoyed with himself for not even considering that possibility.

“Perhaps, for all we know they might have been responsible for what happened at the Conclave.”

“The same could be said about the Templars.” Josephine mentioned.

“A fair point.” Cullen said, stepping forward. “But as we are right now, I don’t believe we have enough influence to approach either group safely.”

“Indeed, the Inquisition clearly needs more agents in more places.” Cassandra said. “We can send people out into the Hinterlands near Redcliffe, and to other areas to gain more influence with the different groups.”

The others nodded, and after a little more discussion they went their separate ways. Cassandra stayed behind and turned to Cillian. “Some of the others and I will be going out to explore and try to garner more support. I want you to stay here.” She raised a hand to quiet Cillian before he could protest. “You won’t be alone, and I want you here to talk to the others. Get their opinions on the matter and come to your own conclusions. As I said before, the decision is yours.” Cassandra turned to leave, but before she left she looked back to him. “I’ll be back soon, stay safe.” She said, before walking out to prepare for her departure. Cillian watched her go, thinking about what he should do now. More than anything however, he was annoyed that he was being left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since the last chapter, I've been super busy with assignments. I'm hoping to get some more of the story done over the summer, so there should be more to come!


	5. Chapter V - A New Mission

It had been a day since Cassandra and the others had left, and Cillian was bored. Most of his new companions had left to various different locations, save for the Bull’s Chargers who were still awaiting deployment. He remembered what Cassandra had said before she left, that he should talk to the advisors and get their opinions. But he already knew how they’d react. Cullen would tell him to go the Templars, as he was so sure they could be trusted. Josephine would advise him to visit the Mages in Redcliffe, as their powers would be greatly beneficial. Leliana however might be able to offer him some real insight, given her almost omniscient knowledge of matters such as these. He stood up from his seat upon the steps in the center of Haven and made way for Leliana’s tent. Upon arriving, he found her kneeling inside. Cillian knew she was an Andrastian, and thus assumed she was praying and didn’t want to disturb her, but as he turned to leave he heard her speak up.

“You speak for Andraste, no? What does the Maker’s Herald have to say about all this? What’s his game?” She asked, her brow furrowed with frustration. Cillian was scared, he’d never seen her this visibly angry before.

“I- I don’t understand. What game?” He stammered before the storm that was Lady Nightingale.

“Look up at the sky, the ruins of the temple, the bones lying in the dust. Even if you don’t believe in Andraste or the Maker, you wouldn’t call any of this right. Who could? So many innocent lives - faithful lives, murdered in the holiest of places. If this is truly the Maker’s will, what else could this be but some cruel game?” She asked, as if pleading for some answer for what had happened.

“I… I can’t answer for the Maker, or Andraste or anyone but myself.” He said, answering as honestly as he could.

“You probably don’t even worship the Maker. You’re lucky, he asks a lot.” She said, standing and walking over to where Cillian was. “The Chantry teaches that he abandoned us, that he demands we repent for our sins. He demands all of it. Our lives, our deaths. Justina gave everything she had, and he just let her die.” She said, a pained expression on her face.

Cillian rested an arm on her shoulder, not quite sure how to comfort someone dealing with such great pain. “I’m sorry; she sounds like she was an incredible woman.” He said

Leliana sighed. “If the Maker won’t even intervene to save the best of his servants, what good is he? I used to believe I was chosen, just as some say you are. I thought I was fulfilling his purpose for me, fighting alongside the Hero of Ferelden, working with the Divine, helping people. But now Justinia’s dead, and my servitude has meant nothing at all.”

“Maybe you just need to find another purpose. I could help you find it.”

She chuckled and looked down at Cillian fondly. “No, it’s my business. I’m just sorry you had to see me like this.” He patted her on the back as the two of them sat down on a box. “I’m sorry, you must have come here for a reason, did you need something?”  
            “Oh of course, I was wondering what you thought about seeing the Mages or the Templars. I figured you’d probably know quite a bit about both sides and the other two seemed a little biased.”

“They do certainly seem set in their ways don’t they?” She chuckled, before sitting back and thinking for a few minutes. “Well, from the information my scouts have sent me, there are reasons to both go to and avoid each party.”

“That’s what I’d been thinking as well.” Cillian replied,

“Well, what do you think?” She asked, looking down at him.

“If I had to choose, I’d feel better going to the Mages. The idea of going to the Templars doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Well, they did invite you to Redcliffe; it would be rude to refuse them.” Leliana said with a slight grin.

“You don’t think it’s a trap?”

“I’d be willing to bet money on it, but what Cullen said about the Templars may still hold true for the Mages as well.” She pointed out. “Take some time to think about it, it’s your Mark, and thus we’ll let you choose how we deal with this.”

“Thanks.” Cillian said, before getting to his feet. “I should go, I’m gonna take a walk, clear my head.” He walked out of the tent and down the steps, towards the open snowy expanse at the front of Haven. There was a particular hill, just beyond Forge where Cillian liked to sit; he’d always liked high up places. Upon arriving he sat, letting his legs hang over the edge as a cold wind gently rustled his hair. He knew that the Templars would offer them protection and help when it came to fighting the demons and in closing the Breach. After all, they were warriors specifically trained to fight this exact kind of threat. This didn’t do anything to quell his doubts however, because while he trusted that they’d be able to get the job done, from what he knew of the Templars, they’d be just as likely to turn on them afterwards and deal with him, Solas, and all of the other mages with the Inquisition. He couldn’t imagine being caged in one of the Circles for the rest of his life.

Along with his fears and doubts, he couldn’t help but feel a certain connection to the rebel Mages, most of them hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet they were persecuted simply due to the nature of their birth.

“You alright?” Cillian heard from behind him, and turned his head as Krem sat down next to him.

“I’m fine, just thinking.”

“About the Mages and Templars? Yeah I heard about that.” Krem commented. He paused, thinking of what to say. “Having trouble with making a decision?”

“Yeah, it’s a big decision for me to make. I mean, what if I’m wrong?”

“I don’t think you can make a wrong decision here. Both of them should be able help us with the Breach. I think the important thing is who do you think will be more suited to work with the Inquisition?”

Cillian paused. “The Mages. I think they’d be easier to work with than the Templars, plus they’d be far more willing to work with us than the Templars, seeing as they seem to hate us right now.”

“True enough.” Krem said. They sat there for a minute, just looking out over the snowy landscape before them. “Hey, how about a little distraction?”

Cillian turned to him. “What did you have in mind?” He questioned.

“Come with me.” Krem said, standing and leading Cillian back down the hill to where the Bull’s Chargers appeared to be getting ready to leave for a mission. They found Bull by his tent, readying his giant axe.

“Hey there, Imekari. Krem said you were looking down, everything alright.”

“He’s feeling a bit overwhelmed, so I thought he could come with us, maybe clear his head a little.”

Bull grinned. “You sure that’s a good idea? Cassandra’s gonna be pissed if she finds out we did this without telling her.”

“Well, she’s not here to say otherwise.” Cillian reminded them.

Bull laughed. “Good point. Grab your things; we’re leaving in an hour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter than usual, but hopefully the next couple should be normal length. There's also going to be some slight divergence from the main plot, because some bits don't translate well into a story.


	6. Chapter VI - The Swan's Song

 The mission had taken them to a cave not far from Redcliffe, where a group of renegade necromancers had taken refuge and were raising corpses for various unsavory purposes. Cillian had kept his distance from the action, still bothered by the fight against the Templars at the Crossroads. All he really knew about the necromancers themselves was they were sick people, and Bull had told him to not tell Cassandra and the others at Haven about having joined them.

“They wouldn’t approve.” Was all Bull had said when Cillian asked him why. That had been earlier that day, and they were now on the road back towards Haven. The Chargers had seemed unsettled and far less enthusiastic since the mission, so Bull had decided they would spend the night at the inn they passed on the road, rather than camping out in the cold again.

The Swan’s Song was a modest establishment, filled with character and owned by a kind pair of Qunari gentlemen and their daughter, all of who seemed happy enough to accommodate the Chargers and Cillian for the night, despite Cillian’s age and how drunk the Bull’s Chargers deemed it necessary to get after a successful mission. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he sat between Bull and Krem whilst they and the others bellowed the Chargers song, the sound of which boomed over all other noise. He noticed the bartenders laughing as the group sang away, and Cillian could’ve sworn their daughter was smiling at him.

The party raged on into the night, ending only once the last of the Chargers had been put to bed. Cillian had faced a particularly hard time when putting Bull, who was at least twice Cillian’s size, into a bed he was too big for. He wasn’t particularly tired himself, and after all the commotion downstairs, he felt like he should help clean up. He wandered back into the bar, where he found the two men who owned the establishment were picking up the table that Bull had knocked over on his way upstairs.

One of them looked over. “Hey there, is everything alright with the rooms? I hope there’s enough room for everyone.”

“Everything’s fine up there, I finally got them to sleep.” Cillian smiled as he began picking up tankards from the floor. The two burly men stood the table back in the center of the room and began cleaning the rest of the room. “Thank you both for being so accommodating, they can get a bit rowdy when they drink.”

One of the men, wearing a loose fitting shirt which showed off the tattoos down his muscled arms, smiled. “No worries, Imekari. We’ve seen rowdier than them in here, at least they didn’t get violent.”

The other, slimmer yet still imposing due to the curled horns upon his head, leaned against a beam. “Don’t worry, young one, there won’t be any violence here tonight, too late for that. This is my partner, Asala. Mine’s Kost.” He pointed over to the bar, where the young Qunari girl was wiping down the bar. “Over there’s our daughter, Raas.”

“I’m Cillian.” He stated, a little intimidated by their stature as he walked over to the bar to deposit the tankards. Other than Bull, he’d never met a Qunari before, he was still a little wary of them. He set them down carefully on the bar, as the girl looked over at him.

“You were with the big party weren’t ya?” She asked, walking back over towards the young elf and wiping down more of the bar.

“Yeah, they were having a bit of a celebration after a successful mission.” Cillian said, sitting at the bar.

“Oh yeah? What mission is a kid like you on?” She asked with a smirk, leaning over the bar.

Cillian realised that he probably should go telling everyone about the Inquisition’s operations, but then again he had heard Bull telling everyone about their previous jobs, so he supposed it wouldn’t be too much of an issue to talk about theirs, so long as he didn’t divulge any Inquisition secrets. If he did he was sure Cassandra or Leliana would have his head.

“Yeah, we were dealing with some rouge mages in the area. They were necromancers.”

Raas grimaced. “Yeah I’d heard about them, was worried that they might come down here. Thanks for takin’ care of them.” She said, stretching out a hand. Cillian shook it. He felt at ease with her, more so than with her fathers for some reason, despite her impressively sized horns, her imposing physique and the fact that she was several inches taller than him.

“No problem.” He said, cracking a shaky smile.

“You seem nervous around us, never met Qunari before?”

Cillian nodded. “Besides Iron Bull, no.”

“We’re not so bad, just normal folks workin’ away in the tavern. Well, they work in the tavern; I cook and help clean up.”

“You cook?” Cillian asked, perking up at the mention of a potential shared interest.

Raas chuckled. “I try; this lot seems to think it’s alright so I must be doing something right.”

“What do you cook?”

“Mostly Ferelden Food, it’s pretty crap to be honest, most of the time Ferelden cuisine involves throwing a bunch of ingredients into a pot and cooking it for as long as possible until it looks grey, bland and unappealing.” She sighed, leaning against the bar and chuckling. “Man, I’d love to cook like those Orlesians; they know what they’re doing.” She looked back at Cillian. “I might look a bit rough, but I can’t get enough of those frilly cakes and things they make.”

Cillian was curious about Raas, he’d never met a female Qunari, not to mention one his age. He was fascinated by their culture, wondering if it was similar to how Bull lived.

“So… I take it you aren’t part of the Qun?” He asked, hoping he had enough of a grasp of the concept so that he wouldn’t insult her.

Kost joined them at the bar, replacing a barstool which appeared to have been tossed across the room, possibly by the Chargers. “No, Asala and I chose to leave several years ago. The Qun typically is okay with men being with men, but only if they’ll be with a woman when it comes time to procreate.” He looked at Raas, his smile faded a little. “Raas here however…”

“I don’t really wanna talk about it, if that’s okay with you?” She said with an angry tone in her voice as she stormed back off to the kitchen. Cillian was afraid he’d offended her, when he felt Kost’s hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Imekari, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He said, leaning against the bar. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. She’s had a bit of a rough past; it’s her business, not for me to tell. She’ll be annoyed at me all night now. I should send Asala to talk to her.”

“I could talk to her; I seem to have a knack for making friends.” Cillian said.

“You’re free try, but she don’t take kindly to strangers most of the time, so don’t be surprised if she punches you.” Kost said through a knowing chuckle.

Cillian wandered back through behind the bar in the direction that Raas had gone. He found her in the kitchen, still visibly frustrated and almost shaking. She glared at him when he came in. “I’m not talking about it.”

“I know, you don’t have to.” Cillian said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Trust me; I know how it gets when a lot of people ask you about a past you’d rather not get into.”

She softened a little at that, seemingly grateful to have someone in a similar position to talk to. “Well… thanks.” She said, though she still seemed a little tense.

Cillian looked around, and then remembered something. “You said you make the food here?”

“Yeah, so what?” Raas replied.

Cillian got to work, darting around and gathering ingredients. He’d never cooked in an actual kitchen but he knew how too properly. He moved around while Raas watched, confused but also intrigued. After about an half an hour, Cillian presented Raas with a bowl and spoon.

“What’s this?” She asked, sniffing and looking at it with a curious gaze.

“Orlesian butter soup. I’ve never really made it before so it might not be great.”

She cautiously took a sip from her spoon, her eyes widening as she swallowed. “Damn, that’s pretty good. Where’d you learn to make that?”

“Our clan once ran into a merchant who was friendly to our people. A few children stole a couple of books and the adults bought some more. There was an Orlesian cookbook in there, I read through it a fair amount of times, memorized all the recipes.”  
            “You cooked that from memory? Not bad.” Raas replied, smirking as she ate.

“I hope I didn’t upset you earlier.” Cillian said, looking towards the floor before moving back to the door.

“You didn’t, I’d just rather not discuss my past with strangers.” She said between mouthfuls of soup.

“I should probably head back upstairs, we’ve got a long trip coming tomorrow and I should get some sleep beforehand.”

She put the bowl down on the side and approached him. Cillian stood still, not sure what she was doing. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Nice getting to know you, Mister Herald.”

Cillian was bright red. He’d never been kissed before. Turning quickly on his heels he headed upstairs and quietly found a spot in the Chargers room, falling quickly to sleep.

 

“Noticed you left the room last night, where’d you go?”

Cillian had learned not to question how Bull knew these things; at this point he simply attributed it to his Ben-Hassrath training.

“I went downstairs. You guys get a bit rowdy when you’re drunk so I went down to help clear up.”

Bull smirked. “Yeah, but I also noticed when you came back into the room. You were redder than the back of the Abyssal High Dragon.” The Qunari stared down the young elf.

“Alright fine… I ended up speaking to the owner’s daughter.”

“Really? Just speaking?”

“I might have… cooked for her.”

Bull bellowed out laughing. “You smooth bastard! I love it.”

“She was upset; I thought it might cheer her up.” Cillian said, a little embarrassed.

“Don’t worry; I won’t say anything to the others.” Bull teased, heading towards the bar, where the rest of the Chargers were waiting to depart. “You should say goodbye before we go.” He winked, before clomping downstairs.

Cillian hated the Ben-Hassrath right now, as he followed Bull downstairs and out of the door, where the others were waiting. It was going to be a long trek back to Haven, and Cillian wasn’t looking forward to the potential conversation he was going to have with Cassandra when she inevitably found out he’d gone with the Chargers. As he walked down through the bar, he heard movement behind him.

“Leaving already?” Raas asked, stepping out from behind the bar and walking towards him.

“We need to get back to Haven, quick as possible.”

“Why the rush?”

“We’re trying to get back before another group, it would be problematic if they got to Haven before us.”

Raas’ brow furrowed. “Are you in trouble?”

“Trust me, if Cassandra finds out I came down here, I will be.” Cillian said with dread.

She laughed. “Well I hope you have a good trip back, and if you’re ever down this way again, do pop in.” She said with a smile.

“I will.” He replied, smiling along with her. She stepped forward and embraced him, her strong arms around his shoulders.

“Been nice meeting you, Cillian.” She said, her voice low and close to his ears. “I hope I’ll see you again.” She pulled away, but not before giving him one quick peck on the cheek, like the night before.

Cillian smiled, walking towards the door, before turning back. “By the way, I don’t think you look rough.” She raised an eyebrow at his comment. “You look… really nice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay between this chapter and the last one. I've been busy with Uni lately and since I'm currently in my third year, new chapters might be coming out irregularly. Hope you like this one though, I'm really getting back into this and hope that people like it. As always feel free to leave a comment, I'll reply as soon as possible!


	7. Chapter VII - Choosing Allies

The feeling of Cassandra’s gauntleted hand smacking Cillian upside the head was almost becoming commonplace at this point.

“What were you thinking? Going out on a mission like that with the Chargers? Without you, we cannot close the Breach. Imagine if you’d been killed, demons would’ve torn the world apart before any Mages or Templars could.”

“I’m sorry Cassandra. I just… I wanted to be helpful. You guys keep leaving me here, and I wanted to help people.”

“You help people by closing the Breach. That is your duty, not gallivanting with mercenaries and hunting down necromancers.”

Cassandra scowled at him, and Cillian knew she was more concerned than angry. Her anger would be primarily directed at the Chargers for even offering to take Cillian along with them.

“Don’t blame the Chargers; they were only trying to make me feel better.” Cillian said, hoping to placate her. “How did you even…” He began to ask before stopping. The answer was obvious, considering he was talking to one hand of the Divine, and the other hand presumably knew Cillian had left before he’d even made the decision himself.

Cassandra sighed, the anger and concern fading. “I’d ask you to inform me of any more excursions you plan on undertaking, but I get the feeling I’ll have more luck asking Leliana.”

Cillian smiled. He knew she wasn’t annoyed, and even if she was, she’d get over it soon enough. “How did your mission go out in the Hinterlands?”

“We’ve succeeded in establishing a foothold in the Hinterlands, enough that Redcliffe’s Mages or the Templars should be willing to meet us.” She lent forward, looking at Cillian intently. “Which would you rather go to?”

“Why me?” Cillian asked. “You, Leliana, Josephine and Cullen are the ones in charge here not me.”

“True, it would be foolish to put a child in charge of the Inquisition. But as the Herald your opinion is valuable. You are the one who will close the Breach and remaining rifts. Who do you think would be more helpful to help you do that?”

Cillian thought for a minute. “I’d rather talk to the Mages. Either would be able to help, but I don’t trust the Templars.”

Cassandra nodded. “We should talk to the others, get their opinions.” She stood up, heading for the door. “I need to have a word with The Iron Bull, meet me by the Chantry in an hour.”

With that she left, presumably off to go give Bull a thrashing for letting Cillian go with them. He sat there for a minute, and then stood, leaving the room and walking through Haven. He’d told Cassandra that he’d meet her at the Chantry, but if he was already there he wouldn’t need to keep track of the time. He wandered inside, looking around seeing as this was his first real time in here without being escorted to the war room.

“Hello there, Child. Having a nice look around are you?” Vivienne asked, walking out from behind one of the pillars to stand before Cillian.

“Vivienne, how are you? I haven’t managed to speak to you much since you arrived.”

“Well, Darling, I’ve only recently arrived. I had business to attend to before coming down. That Marquis for one, he took a long while to placate before he would eventually leave.”

Cillian laughed. “Your life is far more exciting than mine, Vivienne. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself with all those nobles and aristocrats.”

“Oh that’s simply the game, Darling. One learns it when one lives it for most of their life. Given your position, you may have to learn the intricacies of the Game yourself.”

The prospect of that filled Cillian with dread, but he pushed it out of his mind. He doubted he’d need that kind of knowledge or experience anytime soon.

“Judging by the expression on your face, Child. You came here with a purpose, did you need something.”

Cillian cleared his throat. “Well, I know you’re a mage of some renown, and I was wondering if you could teach me how to fight like you.”

Vivienne laughed, and Cillian could tell how practiced and rehearsed her laugh was, it was almost perfect. In that moment, Cillian wondered if he would ever manage to hear a real laugh from her.

“You want to learn my way of magic? I would’ve assumed you were more interested to learn from Solas?”

Cillian nodded. “I do plan to learn Solas’ way of using magic; he promised he would teach me at some point. But I want to try and get a wider grasp of being a mage. I thought maybe if I learned different styles it would allow me to be of better use. Maybe it’d help me control this too.” He said, raising the hand where the Mark still tingled and flickered every now and again, which he still found annoying, especially at night.

Vivienne stood still for a minute, pondering the suggestion. “Well, I suppose I could teach you some of the magic I learned in the Circle. It only seems fair, my magic is derived from a traditionally Elven style itself.”

“Thank you, Madame de Fer” Cillian said, using her epithet to show his respect.

She raised a hand. “There is a condition though, young Herald.” Cillian raised an eyebrow, curious. “If I agree to teach you the art of the Knight Enchanter, then you’ll also allow Josephine and me to educate you in the ways of the Game. It is inevitable that you’ll have to encounter the courts eventually, as the head of the Inquisition and with our relationship with the Chantry. It would do you well to know how to interact with Orlesian nobility.”

He thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright, that seems fair. Thank you for agreeing to teach me.” He said.

“Oh it’s my pleasure, Darling. Now I think Cassandra is waiting for you.” Vivienne replied, pointing towards the Seeker and walking back to her place in the Chantry. Cillian turned and walked with her down towards the room where the other advisers would be waiting.

 

“I still think we should approach the Templars at Therinfal Redoubt.” Cullen commented, standing strong over the table, his brow furrowed. “Their ability to cancel magic and fight against demons would be invaluable to combating the Breach.”

“The Templars are currently known throughout the world for killing people. We shouldn’t ally ourselves with people who are seen to be oppressing people.” Josephine countered.

“Not to mention the Lord Seeker, and his sudden hatred of anything to do with the Inquisition.” Leliana added.

Cassandra shook her head. “Regardless of this, I believe that the Mages would be both more sympathetic to our cause, as well as more likely to accept our offer, due to their current desperate situation.”

The others nodded, though Cullen still seemed reluctant, if not downright against the idea. “So how do we get in contact with these Mages?” He asked.

“First Enchanter Fiona already gave us an invitation back in Val Royeaux.” Cillian reminded them, stepping forward to the table.

“Should the child really be here?” Cullen asked. “He is a mage after all; he’s clearly biased towards them.”

“As I said, as the only one here who can seal rifts, his opinion on how we deal with the Breach is valid.”

“Still, I think having a mage decide on this matter makes things more complicated. His judgement might be clouded.” Cullen objected.

“Commander, I understand your views on Mages, but as the one bearing the Mark, Cillian should be allowed to stay. He is more than a mage.” Cassandra’s tone was enough to silence Cullen, for the time being. Discussions went on, with Cullen continuing to protest the idea, only for Leliana, Josephine or Cassandra to counter his point. Cillian chose to stay quiet for the most part, not wanting to spark another argument. Finally, they decided on a course of action. Cillian, who had been invited by name to Redcliffe, would go to meet with the Mages along with Cassandra, whose Seeker training would allow for some extra protection against any hostile magic, and Cillian believed that she still wanted to keep an eye on him after his escapade with Bull and the Chargers. Bull was being brought, likely so Cassandra could keep him in check, as well as him being experienced with combatting mages. Finally, Varric would be accompanying them, as he seemed to have a knack for getting information out of people, a skill which the group thought would be useful.

Cullen was the first to leave the war-room, with Leliana following him and Josephine returning to her office to deal with a political matter. Cassandra examined the map one last time, getting a feeling for where they were headed. She turned her attention to Cillian, who was still there, seemingly downtrodden.

"Don’t pay too much mind to Commander Cullen. He’s had a long past with mages, and they’ve somewhat affected his worldview.” She approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “He doesn’t dislike you; it’ll just take some time for him to become accustomed to working so closely with a mage.”

Cillian sighed. “I guess, I just hope going to the Mages won’t be too much of a problem for him.” Turning to Cassandra, he looked to her for advice. “Do you think it’s the right decision?”

There was a moment of silence as Cassandra considered her stance on the situation. “I don’t think there is a right decision, either choice will anger somebody, and it’s unavoidable that your actions, and indeed the actions of the Inquisition as a whole will shape numerous lives across Thedas.”

Cillian thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Thank you, Cassandra,” He said, his voice trembling a little under the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter, but I promise the next one will be longer, along with introducing everyone's favorite mage from Tevinter! Also I wanted to say that I'm thinking of including side quests and Companion Quests as One-Shot stories, so if anyone has any specific requests leave them in the comments and I will get to them ASAP! Thanks guys, hope you enjoy!


	8. Chapter VIII - Negotiating With Snakes

Cillian had never been to Redcliffe before, but he hoped that closing the rift outside their gate would help present a good first impression. As the rift fizzled shut, the four of them waited outside the gate, after Bull had banged on it a couple times with his axe.

“You alright there, Tiny? Seemed a bit slow there.” Varric said, returning his crossbow to his back.

“I’m good, just felt a bit weird back there, you know what I mean?” He replied, his brow furrowed as he tried to assess the situation.

“Maybe it was the rift?” Cillian offered. “We don’t totally understand them yet, they might warp time around them in ways we just haven’t seen yet.”

“Could be, although that’s a creepy enough thought by itself.” Bull commented as the gate began to open. “Ah good. You think there’s somewhere to get a drink in town?”

“You buying?” Varric chuckled.

“Remember why we’re here.” Cassandra added, her voice dispelling any ideas of kicking back and relaxing while in Redcliffe. The gates slowly grinded to a halt, allowing the small party to enter the village. This place had certainly seen better days, Cillian thought, looking around at the crumbling walls surrounding the gate. There were a few people scattered around, most of whom seemed unhappy, even fearful as they shambled about their business.

“Anyone else getting a weird feeling about this place?” Bull asked, watching the people with a trained eye.

“A little, keep your eyes open.” Cassandra replied, also curious. As they spoke, an Inquisition scout ran up to them.

“Seeker Cassandra, good to see you, the situation here seems to be worse than we thought.” He said, sweating from his run through the village.

“What have you found?” She asked.

“Well for starters, these people definitely weren’t expecting us to arrive.” The scout said.

“Really? Not even Fiona?” Cillian asked, his voice thick with suspicion.

“If she did know, she didn’t tell anyone.” The scout replied, unfazed by Cillian’s age, which was a nice change from someone he’d just met. “There’s more, the mages here are being led by…” He began, but before he finished an Elf clad in robes approached them.

“Agents of the Inquisition, my sincere apologies. Magister Alexius is in charge now, but he hasn’t arrived yet. He’s expected shortly, you can speak with the former Grand Enchanter in the meantime. Your business will be held in the Tavern.”  The Elf said, before marching off back in the direction he’d come from.

“He said Magister; don’t tell me the Mages here are working with the Vints.” Bull sighed.

“If they are, the situation is worse than we thought.” Cassandra agreed. She turned to Bull and Varric. “We might be conducting our negotiations in the Tavern, but this does not give you an excuse to drink while on official business.”

The pair seemed downtrodden as Cassandra wandered down towards the center of the Village. Cillian looked to them. “Maybe once we’re done.” He said with a smile. And with that, they all wandered down to the village.

 

Considering that Haven was the only Human village Cillian had ever visited, Redcliffe was quite nice. It had the advantage of not being covered with snow and thus was a nice change of environment. The group wandered around, attracting stares from anyone they passed. Apparently there weren’t an abundance of Elves, Dwarves or Qunari in Redcliffe, so people seemed intrigued by their presence. They walked past a statue on their way to the tavern. The figure was clearly a woman, and was depicted as quite short in stature. Cillian didn’t recognize them from any of the books he’d managed to read.

“Varric, who is that?” He asked, figuring Varric would be the one to ask about this sort of thing.

“Seriously, Kid? You don’t know who the Hero of Ferelden is?” He asked incredulously.

“Should I?” He replied. “Remember I spent the majority of my life in the woods.”

“Fair enough. But nobody told you about the Hero? At least you know about Hawke, that’s a start.” He chuckled. “The Hero of Ferelden was a Dwarf from Orzammar, who joined the Grey Wardens and helped put an end to the Fifth Blight.”

Cillian didn’t really remember the Fifth Blight. He’d only been a baby at the time and had only heard a few vague stories about the events from the adults in his Clan.

“So this woman, she was pretty special?” Cillian asked.

“She was.” Cassandra said, looking up at the statue. “In fact, before we went looking for Hawke to lead the Inquisition, we searched for the Hero, but she was nowhere to be found.”

If Cassandra was complimenting her, she must be pretty impressive, Cillian thought as they carried on. He made a mental note to read up on the Fifth Blight once they got back to Haven, and once he’d finished The Tale of the Champion. He’d just got Hawke challenging the Arishok when they’d began their final trek to Redcliffe, and he was hoping to finish that chapter that evening.

Normally Cillian wouldn’t be allowed in taverns while Cassandra was around, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. Cillian wasn’t a fan of the Gull and Lantern, it wasn’t as jovial or cozy as the other taverns he’d been into. This, along with the rest of Redcliffe, was covered with a tension which made him nervous. Inside, First Enchanter Fiona and several other mages were crowded around talking, and turned upon their arrival. Fiona approached, bowing her head a little in respect.

“Welcome, Agents of the Inquisition. What has brought you to Redcliffe?” She asked.

Cillian was confused, and he didn’t even need to look at the others to see that they shared the feeling. “Uh… We’re here because you invited us… in Val Royeaux?” Cillian said.

Fiona looked equally perplexed. “You must be mistaken; I haven’t visited Val Royeaux since before the Conclave.”

“Well it looked like you. You don’t have a twin do you?” Cillian asked. “If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”

“I… I don’t know. Now that you mention it, I have felt strange recently, almost as if…” She shook her head. “No matter, whoever or whatever you met, the situation has changed. The free Mages here have already… pledged themselves to the service of Magister Alexius Gereon of the Tevinter Imperium.”

“An alliance with the Vints? Are you mad?” Bull asked, his sense of tact clearly being ignored at this point.

“In any case.” Fiona continued, ignoring Bull’s comment. “As one indentured to a Magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate terms of alliance with you.”

Fiona’s gaze moved past their party as the door opened and closed behind them. A pair of men, both clearly from Tevinter by their attire, approached; one old, and the other significantly younger.

“Welcome, my friends! I apologize for not greeting you sooner.” The elder Magister said approaching the group.

“Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius.” Fiona stated; her tone flat and clearly she was not fond of her new ally.

“The Southern Mages are under my command.” Alexius said, eying Cillian with a curious stare. “So… You’re the survivor. The one who stepped out of the Fade at the Conclave. Interesting… To think such a thing was possible of a child.” He murmured.

“Well, since you’re the one leading the Mages, maybe we could talk to you about some kind of arrangement for help dealing with the Breach.”

Alexius laughed. “Nice to see such manners from someone so young. Come, let us discuss.” He said, leading the group to a table at the back of the Tavern. “Felix, would you send for a scribe, please?” He shook his head a little. “Pardon my manners, Herald. My son, Felix.” He said, indicating the younger man who’d followed him in.

The younger man bowed his head in greeting, then turned and walked away, presumably to fetch the scribe.  
            “I’m not surprised that you’re here, Agents of the Inquisition. Closing the Breach is not a feat many would even consider attempting. It will require a great many mages I imagine.”

“So you’ll help us?” Cillian asked, surprised that this was going so well.

“That all depends on…” Alexius began, before turning to see the returning Felix. Something wasn’t right, the young man stumbling towards them. He fell, falling into Cillian, who had leapt to his feet in order to help. The weight of the armored young man was too much for him however, and the pair fell to the floor. As Felix began to pick himself up, Cillian felt him press something into his hand and close the young elf’s hand around it.

“I… I’m sorry my lord. I didn’t mean to fall into you.” He apologized; giving Cillian a look which told him not to question the obvious message he was being given.

Alexius held his son, helping him away from the gathering. “I apologize, Herald. We shall have to continue this another time. Fiona, I require your assistance back at the Castle.” He said, marching out holding his son and with the Grand Enchanter in tow, her head bowed like an obedient hound. Once the three of them had left, Cillian got to his feet, with Cassandra’s help.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“I’m fine, but I think Felix is trying to tell us something.” He said as he opened the small note. ‘Come to the Chantry. You are in danger.’

“I thought this was going too well.” Varric murmured as he read the note himself.

“Felix wants to meet with us in the Chantry? This is definitely a trap.” Cassandra commented. Cillian agreed, but he still thought they should meet with him. If there was trouble, they should confront it now, rather than have it come back to bite them later on.

“We should go, see what he has to say.” Cillian remarked, looking to the others for their opinions.

“Let’s do it, might be some more Vints in there.” Bull said excitedly.

“That’s not good, Tiny. We don’t wanna a bunch of Magisters ambushing us.”

“Are you kidding? That sounds awesome!” Bull exclaimed. Cillian shook his head in exasperation, despite silently agreeing with Bull. The group set off, leaving the tavern and making their way up the hill towards the chantry.

Outside, the group paused, with Cillian’s hand on the door. They all knew it was most likely a trap, and they were all prepared; Varric’s hand was already primed to launch a bolt from Bianca, and Cassandra and Bull had made sure their weapons were a short reach away. Even Cillian was mentally preparing to throw up a barrier around the four of them. He nodded, pushing on the door and throwing it open, all of them tensing up.

What they hadn’t expected to see was a fade rift, already having thrown out a wave of demons from the look of things, and a young man with hair Cillian was a little jealous of dispatching another, before turning around.

“Took you all long enough, now would you mind helping me with this.” He asked with the kind of smile which gave Cillian the impression he was only asking out of politeness, and that the stranger could deal with the problem on his own. Just then, the rift pulsed and more demons came roaring from the Fade. The four leapt into action, the warriors charging forward protected by Cillian’s barrier and supported by a few bolts flying from Bianca. The stranger fell back towards Cillian and Varric, throwing lightning into the fray. It was a hard battle, though made easier by the stranger having already dealt with some of the problem.

After Cillian finally closed the rift, staggering back before being supported by Cassandra, the stranger approached them. “Well, wasn’t that exciting?” Cillian finally got a good look at him, and was impressed to say the least, not least because of the mustache. “You must be the Herald of Andraste,”

“Careful, Boss,” Bull muttered under his breath, “The pretty ones are always the ones you need to be suspicious of.”

The mage looked over Bull. “Coming from the enormous Qunari,” he sighed, turning back to Cillian. “So how does that mark of yours work, hmm? It’s quite fascinating.” He asked, taking Cillian’s hand and examining it, much to Cassandra’s annoyance.  

“I don’t really know specifically.” Cillian admitted.

He laughed. “Brilliant, so you just wiggle your fingers and poof, no more rifts.”

Cillian shook his head. “Just who are you by the way?”

The mage stood, sighing. “I suppose I got ahead of myself,” He smiled, offering out a hand. “Dorian, of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. Suspicious friends you have here,” he added, looking around at the others.  

“Cillian,” He replied, shaking Dorian’s hand. “So why did you bring us here?”

“Magister Alexius was formerly my mentor, so I was thinking that you might be able to use my help.”

Cillian wasn’t sure what to make of him. On one hand, there was a reason that people from Tevinter were typically vilified, and Dorian could be trying to manipulate them to use the Inquisition to his own ends. On the other, Cillian quite liked Dorian, especially his mustache, of which he was a little envious.

“Why would you help us, Magister?” Cassandra inquired; her hand still at the hilt of her sword.

Dorian groaned. “Look, just because I come from Tevinter, that doesn’t make me a Magister.”

Cassandra looked taken aback. “I… Sorry.” She stammered.

“That’s fine,” he said, turning to Cillian. “Look, there’s trouble in Redcliffe, I doubt you needed any kind of note to notice that.” He wasn’t wrong, something about this whole affair in Redcliffe had seemed off to Cillian ever since he’d stepped foot through the gates. “For example, Alexius allying himself with the Mages so quickly after the Conclave, as if by magic yes? That’s exactly right. In order to get here and bargain with the rebel Mages, Alexius distorted time itself.”

“You’re joking,” Cillian replied, unable to believe what he was hearing even as his brain was justifying Dorian’s claims. “Something like that shouldn’t be possible.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t,” Dorian agreed. “It’s dangerous and wildly unstable magic, and while I was his apprentice, the idea was purely theoretical, but he seems to have gotten it to work, on some level,” He sighed. “What I don’t understand is why he would do something so dangerous, just for a few hundred mages in his service?”

“He didn’t do it for himself; he’s recruited them for someone else.” Felix added, stepping out of the shadows.

Dorian smiled. “Took you long enough to get here. I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

“Not quite, it just took longer to get away from father than I’d expected. I shouldn’t have played the illness card in hindsight, he fusses like you wouldn’t believe.” He turned to Cillian and the others. “It seems my Father’s joined a cult. A group of Tevinter Supremacists calling themselves the ‘Venatori’, answering to someone who I’ve heard called the Elder One.”

Cillian frowned. Felix’s information was interesting, despite it raising more questions than it answered. “Why does this Elder One want the rebel mages?” He asked.

“That I’m not entirely sure of, but I know one thing; whatever my father is doing with the mages, he’s doing it to get to you.”

Cassandra spoke, her voice firm as she placed a hand on Cillian’s shoulder. “We need to return to Haven, discuss our options.”

“I can’t stay in Redcliffe. Alexius doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d rather keep it that way for now.” Dorian added.

“Why not come with us?” Cillian offered, looking to the mage. “I assume you were planning on joining us when we deal with Alexius anyway, so you might as well join us at Haven.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that.” Dorian smiled. “Can’t be any more dangerous than camping out in the woods nearby,” he added, shuddering at the thought of sleeping out in the wilderness.

The group dispersed, Felix returning the way he’d come while the others left out the main door, with Dorian pulling a hood up to disguise himself as they left Redcliffe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay! I've had a lot of work to get done with this being my final year of University, but with this coming week being my last I found a bit of time to finally get the chapter polished up and uploaded. Hope people like it, and I'll try to start uploading a bit more work from now on.


	9. Chapter IX - Red Future

Bull and Solas behind him, Dorian waiting in the wings to help them should Alexius target them with Tevinter magic, an art form Cillian had yet to acquaint himself with, and numerous Inquisition soldiers ready to deal with the Venatori who were no doubt ready to slay him. Cillian sighed as he went over the plan again, asking himself why he’d ever agreed with it in the first place; even knowing it put him directly in harm’s way. He wondered when he’d become willing to put his life on the line in order to put other people first, it hadn’t been a conscious change and he knew that a few years ago he would simply have hidden himself away from the world.

“Are you feeling alright, Da’len?” Solas asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s understandable to be nervous about something like this.”

“Try not to worry, Imekari. Feel excited, we’re gonna get to kill some Vint mages.” Bull chuckled, patting Cillian on the back.

“It would be wise to lower your voice down; we don’t want to let them know what we’re planning.” Solas chided Bull, patting Cillian’s shoulder.

He steeled himself. “It’s alright. Let’s do this.” He said, pushing open the large double doors leading them into the throne room of Redcliffe. They were greeted by a young looking man in armor clearly denoting him as being from Tevinter, and likely a member of the Venatori. It was interesting, Cillian thought, that the Redcliffe guards were nowhere to be seen, and he wondered what Alexius had done with them.

“Greetings, Herald of Andraste,” the young man announced, “If you would follow me, your companions may wait outside while you negotiate with Magister Alexius.”

Cillian raised a hand. “These men are with me. If they won’t be allowed in, then I won’t be coming in either.”

The young man raised an eyebrow. “You do not trust Magister Alexius? You would imply that he means you danger in his own negotiation meeting?”

He was trying to catch Cillian out, he thought. “I’ve found myself targeted by many people. It would be foolish to go anywhere unfamiliar without support.” He commented, silently thanking Josephine and Vivienne for their advice on dealing with people in court. He’d been sure to ask before they left for Redcliffe.

“Very well, Herald. This way please.” The young man replied.

“Well done, Da’len,” Solas murmured as they ascended the stairs, finding themselves facing a number of Venatori agents, Felix, who was standing beside the throne and Alexius himself.

Cillian found himself getting nervous once again. He had no experience of dealing with courtly affairs, and the idea of having to do it on more of a regular basis; something which he realised was inevitable due to his position, made him feel queasy. They approached the throne where Alexius had established himself, the Magister looking completely confident and secure in his position.

“I’m glad you decided to accept my invitation, Herald.” Alexius exclaimed, leaning forward. “It’s good to see someone in a position such as yours, and one as youthful as yourself, to be so open to civilized negotiations.”

“Thank you for inviting us, Magister Alexius.” Cillian began, recalling the conversations with Vivienne and Josephine which had prepared him for this encounter. “As you know, the mages who you’ve made deals with would be of great help to the Inquisition in our efforts to close the Breach.”

Alexius leant back in his throne. “I understand this. However, as you mentioned, the mages of Redcliffe are under my command. What does the Inquisition plan to offer me in return for the service of my mages?” Before Cillian could reply, Alexius sighed. “Forgive me, but before you answer I’d like to ask you a question, Herald.”

“Go on.” Cillian agreed, curious about the change in direction.

Leaning forward, Alexius posed his question. “I understand that you’re inexperienced when it comes to the politics others of our kind of position are more accustomed to, and I expect that you’ve already been told what kinds of things to say to me to ensure my cooperation. But I want to know what you think of all of this. Why do you think I should support your cause?”

Cillian faltered, unsure of quite how to respond; he knew how he felt about the Breach, and he knew that Alexius shouldn’t be enslaving all the mages of Redcliffe, profiting of their vulnerability following the incident at the Conclave. Frankly, Cillian believed that Alexius should go back to Tevinter and take these Venatori with him. But Cillian didn’t say any of that. He wanted to, but he knew that it wouldn’t do him any good to get on the bad side of the man he was currently bargaining with.

“If we let the Breach remain, then everyone could die. I think we should all work together so that people can be saved.”

This seemed to satisfy Alexius, as he relaxed in his chair. “That sounds honest at least, and I appreciate hearing your views. The earlier question still stands however; I can’t simply give my Mages away for nothing. So I ask again, what do you and the Inquisition plan to offer me in return for my Mages.”

“How are they your Mages?” Cillian asked, unable to remain civil any longer. “I don’t see how you can claim that you own anyone.”

“You haven’t spent much time in Tevinter have you, boy?” The Magister queried; standing and looking down on Cillian and the others. “With power like mine, I can claim whoever I like as my own,” He raised a hand high, signaling to his underlings. “Venatori, take the Herald of Andraste prisoner. Kill the others.”

His order fell on unresponsive ears however, as the agents of the Venatori simply stood there, unmoving. Then, almost as if it had been choreographed, they fell forward, each with an Inquisition agent and a bloodied blade behind them. Alexius recoiled back towards his chair, his formerly prideful expression now replaced with fear and frantic survival instinct.

“It’s over, Alexius.” Dorian announced, stepping out from behind one of the pillars and facing his former mentor. “Give up.”

“Dorian,” The Magister growled. “I should’ve known you had a part in this. Your father was right to distance himself from you.”

The last comment seemed to anger Dorian, and save for Bull putting out an arm to stop him from progressing; Alexius might have died on the spot.

“Father, please. Let us be done with this.” Felix pleaded from his spot besides the throne. “Give up the Venatori and let the southern mages close the Breach.”

Alexius turned to his son, the feeling of betrayal etched into every line of his face. “Felix. Even you have turned on me.” He uttered. He turned to Cillian, and the young elf could see the sadness that was mixed in with all the other emotions driving him forward. “You are a thief, Herald of Andraste. You walk into my halls with your stolen mark, attempting to steal my mages, and even my own son from me. The Elder One will make the world as it was, where the mages with rule once more, as it should be,” He turned to Felix. “He can save you, my son, he promised.”

“Save me? I’m dying, Father. I’ve accepted that, you need to as well.

“No!” Alexius recoiled, as if Felix had insulted him with his statement. He glared at Cillian, his eyes full of hatred and fierce determination now. “You are a mistake.” He bellowed, and a luminous green amulet rose from his outstretched palm, crackling with a mysterious energy.

Dorian cursed, swinging his stave towards the Magister, knocking him back as a vortex of swirling green light enveloped the room. Cillian felt his feet leave the floor, and the world turned black.

 

“Ah!” Cillian felt water lapping at him as he jolted up. Besides him he heard the ragged breath of who he assumed was Dorian. “What…” He started to ask, before the grating of iron bars attracted his attention. A pair of Venatori soldiers drew their swords and charged, only to be held back by a large wall of ice summoned by Dorian.

“Come on!” He called, helping Cillian to his feet. Cillian rose, thrusting his staff towards the first agent, summoning roots to burst through the cracks in the stone floor to bind and completely surround him. Dorian dealt with the other, freezing first the water around him, then the man himself.

Dorian looked around, examining the large red crystals, crackling with red lightning. “What are these?” He asked, tapping one tentatively with the end of his staff. “I don’t recognize these from anywhere I’ve been.”

“Not sure,” Cillian replied, looking around the dungeon they found. “Where exactly are we anyway? We were just in Alexius’ throne room. Are we even still in Redcliffe?”

Dorian examined the room himself. “I’m not sure, we still seem to be in Redcliffe, maybe we were moved to…” He trailed off, examining the Venatori, the crystals before snapping his fingers. “Of course, the amulet; it’s not simply a question of where we are, it’s when!”

“Sorry, are you saying Alexius moved us through time?” Cillian stammered.

“Exactly, we’re still in Redcliffe, just moved away from the throne room and thrown through time,” Looking back to the Venatori, he added. “Given their poor fashion choices, I would wager that we’ve gone forwards rather than backwards.”

Cillian was shaking now, trembling with anxiety over their current predicament. “How do we get back? What if we’re stuck here?” His breathing was deep and heavy, and he felt himself backing against one of the cold stone walls. He saw Dorian come up to him, speaking in a calming manner, but he couldn’t make out the words. He could barely think straight, thoughts burning through his mind with no sign of calming. What if they were stuck in the future, he’d never see any of his friends again, they’d all be killed, he wouldn’t be able to close the Breach, he would never see…

“There’s a way back, I have a plan!” The words cut through the fire, bringing him back to reality. Dorian knelt before him, a serious look in his eyes. “If we can find the Alexius of this time, maybe he’ll still have the amulet he used to open the rift which sent us here. We get a hold of that amulet; we should be able to get back to our time.”

Cillian breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. “Okay, I can do this.”

“Let’s go, Alexius will be in his throne room, and we need to get to him as soon as possible.” Dorian helped Cillian to his feet, leading him down the corridor past the frozen Venatori. The red crystals weren’t limited to the room they’d emerged in, Cillian discovered, finding them scattered in various amounts throughout the dim passages they wandered through.

“So, you’re a Dalish Elf?” Dorian asked as they explored.

The random topic caught Cillian off guard. “Y- Yes, from Clan Yonwyn,” he replied looking up to Dorian. “And you’re from Tevinter, correct?”

“I am, from House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous,” he said before pausing. “Which I realise now is a moot comment as you don’t know where that is.”

Cillian shook his head. “Minrathous is the capital of the Tevinter Imperium,” he noticed Dorian’s confused expression. “I read when people aren’t trying to kill us.”

“Right,” Dorian murmured. “So… what’s a Dalish Clan like? We don’t have a lot of them back home, on account of the… well…”

“Because of all the slavery?” Cillian asked, noticing Dorian’s slightly exasperated reaction. “Solas told me,” He answered the unasked question. “It was… interesting. I mostly spent time with the Keeper, learning magic. I was the First of my clan.”

“The First?”

“Under the Keeper, if he had died then I would likely have become Keeper,” Cillian told him. Normally he wasn’t too eager to talk about his life in the Clan, but right now he was happy to talk about anything to distract him from the enormity of their situation.

“So were there a lot of others your age?” Dorian asked, seemingly happy to distract the young elf. “Must’ve been a fun upbringing, living in the forest with a large family like that?”

Cillian fell quiet, shaking his head. “There were other children, but… I didn’t spend a lot of time with them; with anyone really, besides Keeper Athras.”

Dorian frowned. “Why? Did your studies take up that much time?” He stopped when Cillian didn’t answer the question, turning to find the young elf still behind him. “Cillian, are you alright?”

Cillian didn’t respond, simply remaining in place. As Dorian approached him, he put up a hand, quieting the mage’s approach. He began down the stairs, eventually finding himself in the castles jail.

“Three hundred bottles of beer on the wall, three hundred bottles of beer…” the lazily-sung lyrics filled the room as Cillian and Dorian entered, carefully casting their eyes over the cells. The first cell was empty except for an age old skeleton, wasting away almost to dust. The others however, had occupants Cillian knew only too well.

“Cillian, is that you?” Solas gasped, crawling to the bars of his cell and pulling himself to his feet as the pair approached the door, using magic to burn open the lock. Solas approached Cillian, wrapping his thin arms around the child. “I thought you had died.” His voice shook.

“Alexius didn’t kill us, he sent us through time,” Dorian explained, walking away and examining the other cells. “There’s another one over here.”

“I knew there was something suspicious about you.” Cillian heard from the other cell, in Bull’s distinctive voice. “You have something to do with all this, Vint?”

“He’s alright, Bull. He’s been helping me,” Cillian told him as he helped Solas over to Bull’s cell.

“Imekari, we thought you were dead.” Bull seemed happy to see him; based on the hug Cillian received which left him breathless. “So, what’s the plan?” He asked, looking to Cillian and Dorian.

“Are you sure you two can fight? I doubt it’ll be a simple task getting to Alexius,” Dorian commented, looking around and finding weapons for the pair.

“Don’t worry about me, I can manage.” Solas seemed to be struggling to stand by himself, but by leaning on his staff, he managed to keep himself upright.

“I’ll be good, Imekari,” Bull grunted, getting to his feet and taking his axe. “I don’t know if any more of us are here, but it might be worth searching the rest of the castle,” He glanced over to the next cell over from him. “The Grand Enchanter was here, but she… well…” He pointed to the cell, and Cillian looked on to see a huge cluster of Red Lyrium, with what looked like a human figure jutting out of the rock. Cillian hadn’t seen all that much of the Grand Enchanter in the grand scheme of things, but he knew her features enough to recognize her slumped over form.

Dorian sighed. “Shit.” Turning back to the others, he looked back up the way they’d come. “I imagine Alexius is this back up this way.” The four of them set off, slowly to accommodate for Solas and Bull’s fatigue and their occasional run-ins with the Venatori.

Cillian decided to ask the question he knew was on Dorian’s mind. “So, what happened while we were away?”

Solas sighed, as if recounting the events caused him pain. “Once you disappeared, Alexius took Bull and I captive. From our cells we couldn’t gleam much else, so I journeyed into the Fade to find answers.” The group paused, waiting while a patrol of Venatori passed them by. “The Breach now covers most of southern Thedas, demons are everywhere.”

“Is everyone…” Cillian asked, the weight in his chest threatening to drown him at the prospect of the answer.

“They killed everyone,” Bull replied, gritting his teeth as the memories of those who had died resurfaced. “The only reason we survived as long as we did was so that they could find out more about you.”

Cillian didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t help but blame himself, who else was there to blame? He hadn’t been there, and as a result all of his friends had died in agony. All because of a glowing mark on his hand.

Bull carried on. “From what Solas told me, and from what I overheard from the guards, this Elder One killed the Empress of Orlais, and then set a demon army to work taking over everywhere else while everyone was dealing with the crisis in Orlais.”

Dorian, who seemed remarkably unaffected by the whole ordeal, spoke in a calm voice. “Good, well that can be dealt with when we return.”

Cillian supposed that was true, if they succeeded, Dorian and he would be able to tell the others about what they’d found out in this time, and use that information to prevent this future from happening. This world didn’t need to happen. It was as he was considering this, and they were making their way down a corridor housing numerous areas dedicated to torture, that Cillian heard a gruff voice.

“How did the child know about the sacrifice in the temple?”

Another voice, weaker yet still holding an authoritative tone followed, but Cillian couldn’t make out the words. A harsh sound, the resounding noise of something hard smacking fragile skin rang out from the room, along with a pained cry. Cillian threw the door open, focusing himself and throwing out a bolt of lightning. It hit the large man, the Venatori torturer square in the back, causing him to spasm and fall to the ground, smoke curling up from the fabric of his outfit. Before him, hanging from chains bound to his arms and dressed only in tattered clothes, was Cullen. Cillian felt a stab of sadness and panic as he saw the once regal looking Commander in the state he was in now. His normally swept back hair had grown ragged, and his skin was pale, red veins lining the bruised skin. From his shoulders, Cillian could see what looked like shards of red lyrium protruding from his beneath the skin, dried blood having crusted around them.

Cullen looked up, red eyes trembling from what Cillian could assume was months of experimentation and torture. “You’re… alive?” He rasped, the words sounding rough and painful as the came out of his mouth.

“Cullen, what did they do to you?” Cillian asked, almost tearing up as he looked at the man he’d hoped to call a friend. He turned to Bull. “Help me get him down.” Bull didn’t need to be told twice, supporting Cullen as Cillian began attempting to use magic to break through the shackles.

At the sight of the magic however, Cullen lashed out, kicking at Cillian. He fell to the floor, shocked at the attack. “Stay away from me!” He shouted, his eyes flitting between Dorian, Solas and Cillian.

His reaction was understandable, Cillian thought as he got to his feet. The Venatori seemed to have been torturing him for the better part of the year Cillian had been missing, combined with the man’s previous distain for mages and it was no wonder that he was erratic with three mages standing before him.

Cillian moved forward slowly, his hands raised to show Cullen he meant him no harm, the way he would potentially approach a wild animal. He reached down, retrieving the key from the torturer and, after showing Cullen the key he unlocked his shackles, letting Bull support him till he could stand on his own.

“Cullen, we’re going to find Alexius, if we can get to him, then we might be able to undo all of this.”

He limped over to the door, where he took a sword, testing the grip a few times before turning back to the others. “How… how are you here?”

“Alexius sent us forward through time, that’s where we disappeared to last year when we went to Redcliffe,” Dorian told him.

Cullen scowled, the red lyrium glowing as he leant against the door to support himself. “Mages shouldn’t have this kind of power, nobody should.”

“I tried to curb his ambition when we worked together, but without restraint—“

“Mages don’t need restraint, they need to be dealt with,” Cullen said flatly, turning and moving into the hall. “Come, we should move.”

The others followed Cullen, making their way through Redcliffe Castle. Cillian understood Cullen’s aversion to mages, and being tortured by and experimented on for the past year couldn’t have helped with that. The group finally came to a large room, filled with demons and Venatori attacking each other.

The five of them crouched out of sight of the conflict. “We should wait back here, let them fight wear each other out before we make our move,” Solas advised. Before anyone could agree, Cullen had already leapt into action, swinging and roaring like a madman, cutting down Venatori left and right. Cillian noticed that most of the magic seemed to have little effect on him, and wondered if the red lyrium had affected his Templar abilities. He had little time to consider it however, as the remaining four sprang to action, Bull vaulting over a beam and bringing his axe down on a Venatori soldier, splitting him almost completely in two, while Solas and Dorian rained down fire and ice upon the enemies beneath them. Cillian took a different approach, sneaking around to a safer vantage point and unleashing the power of the Mark, disrupting the Fade Rift and causing the demons to screech as their connection to the world was shaken.

Finally, as Cullen pulled his sword from the mauled corpse of a Venatori agent and Cillian pulled the Rift closed, the group relaxed slightly.      

Dorian piped up, having been searching one of the Venatori Mages. “Look at this,” He remarked, holding up a small shard.

“What is it?” Cillian asked, approaching Dorian and examining the shard.

“If I’m right, it should unlock the door to the throne room.” Dorian stood, making his way to the door and examining it. “From what I can see, we’ll need four more of these to get through.”

“Well we can go in groups, some of us take one side of the hall and the others take the other side.” Bull suggested. The others agreed, and eventually decided on sending Dorian with Bull and Solas, and Cillian would accompany Cullen.

Cillian walked alongside Cullen, occasionally sneaking a glance at the tortured Templar as they made their way through the corridors.

“Cullen, I—“

“Don’t,” Cullen stopped him. “I don’t need to hear about how sorry you are. The long and short of it is that you’re a mage, and after everything that’s happened, I say hang both the Mages and the Templars. I saw Meredith did in Kirkwall, what the Mages did to me in the Ferelden Circle Tower, and now this. They’re both as bad as each other.”

Cillian didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say to a man who had suffered as much as he had.

“When you get back to your own time, would you do me a favor?” Cullen asked; his voice hoarse and flat. Cillian nodded. “Tell me about this, about what the Venatori did to me. I have a right to know.” Before Cillian could reply, he carried on. “I know there’s nothing to hold you to that, I’ll be gone. But, from what I remember of you, I think I can trust you to do the right thing, putting aside your being a mage.”

There was a long pause as Cillian thought about what Cullen had said, but he nodded in agreement. Cullen was right, his past self had a right to know about what had happened to him, whether that affected his relationship with the Inquisition or not. They came to a room filled with Venatori, where Cillian could see that Cullen was ready to leap in and put each and every one of them to the sword.

“Hang on, let me just sneak in. I’ll bet that mage right there has it,” Cillian told him, pointing to the lone Mage closest to him.

Cullen seemed to take some issue with this plan, but he decided to go along with it. Cillian crept along, remembering his days watching the hunters back in his clan and how they always remained hidden from whatever they hunted. Reaching into the pocket of the Mage, he managed to retrieve the shard, only to watch as the man turned to face him.

“You?!” The man shouted, smacking him to the floor. “The Elder One wants you dead!”

Before the man could do anything more, Cullen’s sword pierced through the front of his armor and emerged from the back, killing him instantly. Cullen passed by the man and descended upon the other five, slashing and stabbing his way through them with a rage Cillian had never seen before, and in that instant Cillian saw that this Cullen had nothing left to lose.

Cullen dispatched the last of them; blood dripping from his blade, his hands, even his once luscious blonde hair was dashed with it. He approached and passed Cillian. “Let’s get back, shouldn’t keep the others waiting for us. Cillian followed, not wanting to do anything to attract any anger himself.

 

“Alright, let’s do this,” Dorian said, pressing the last of the lyrium shards into the door, and watching as it glowed and swung open. Entering the throne room, Cillian made his way up the stairs, thrown off by the fact that he’d only just been walking up them not a few hours ago in regards to his own time. The throne was cast off to one side, and Alexius stood where the throne once had, his back turned to the group. Besides him, a figure, misshapen and sickly looking crouched next to him.

“It’s over, Alexius. Give us the amulet and this will all be over,” Cillian called out to him.

 The Magister turned; his face gaunt and sorrowful. “I was wondering when you would reappear. I knew you weren’t dead.” His voice was lifeless, as if all the color had been drained out of his world.

“Alexius give us the amulet, and we can reverse all of this, make it right.” Dorian’s tone was pleading, Cillian thought as he watched Dorian plead with his former mentor; he must truly believe there’s something left within Alexius capable of doing the right thing.

Turning to the figure, Alexius sighed. “I thought… By serving the Elder One and the Venatori, I could save him.”

That was when Cillian realised what the figure was, the hunched remnants of Felix Alexius. Dorian must’ve come to the same conclusion. “Gereon, what have you done to him?!”

“He had the Blight sickness, Dorian. He would’ve died a slow death if I hadn’t saved him.”

“Saved him?” Dorian exclaimed, pointing to Felix, “Does that look like you saved him? He’s probably been suffering the entire time.”

Alexius was about to defend his actions, when there was a gasp. Everyone turned to see Felix, now standing with a sword protruding through his chest.

“Cullen?” Cillian asked incredulously as Felix’s limp body fell to the side.

“Felix?” Alexius didn’t seem to properly comprehend what had happened. He stumbled over to Felix, cradling what was left of his son in his arms, not saying a word, barely even moving. Cillian approached, reaching down and taking the amulet from the Magister. Alexius didn’t react, he had no more reason to fight back.

“Dorian, do you think you can get us back with this?”

There was a pause, Dorian staring at Felix’s lifeless frame. “I… I think so, give me some time.”

“We don’t have time,” Bull said, approaching them. “Demons are coming, they sound pissed.”

“Dorian, if we hold them off, can you work on getting us back?” Cillian asked.

“No, Da’len. You stay here; the three of us will deal with them.”

Cillian shook his head. “No, I wasn’t there to help before; I won’t abandon you to die now.”

“Look at us, we’re dead already,” Cullen joined them. “We’ll fight the demons; you go back and make sure this doesn’t come to pass.”

The three of them made their way to the entrance to the throne room. Cullen turned back to Cillian. “Remember what I asked,” He stated, before joining the others in their eventual death.

Cillian wanted desperately to help. He couldn’t stand the idea of the three of them dying needlessly for his sake, even while he understood it.

“Cillian, come on!” Dorian called, a swirling green vortex similar to the one which sent them to the future now filling the throne room. Cillian took one look back, hearing the cries of the three outside, before hurling himself back into the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to write, the end of University made me quite busy and this is the longest chapter so far. I've also made a couple of changes to some of the earlier chapters, having thought more about the flow of the series. Thanks to everyone who's still reading the series, it means so much to know that there's people out there reading my work!
> 
> Also, I recently started up a Patreon page, so that I can try to make my writing more of a full time endeavor. This will impact both the works I'll be publishing on there, as well as allowing me to write more of this series. If you're a fan of this series and my work, please consider checking out https://www.patreon.com/alexmcdonaldfiction and think about supporting my fiction and helping me make my passion something I can carry on doing!


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